Scara Rose, The Warrior

Chapter 17

Scara's pov

Nope, can't do it.

I can't and will not let my family know how I died. Not only would it reveal that I was a pirate, it would be wrong. I see the way they look at me, the way they look at each other.

Pain.

Aside from the love, all I see is pain.

They only know that I have had a rough past and that I'm dead. If this pains them this much, then how will they take it when I give the details behind my death?

I quickly make up a convincing lie, one that won't hurt as bad as the truth.

"Hit and run," I say quietly.

I hate lying to them, mostly because I hate when people lie to me, but it's for their good.

My mind begins to bring up memories from the day I died. I feel a sudden pain sprout from certain spots of my stomach and my heart.

Phantom pains.

I actually get them pretty frequently down here, mostly when I'm reminded of what happened. I gently rub the spots to get them to go away.

Snow's pov

"Hit and run."

I have more tears streaming down my eyes at the image of my little girl getting run over by a car. However, when I look into my Scara's eyes, I see that there's something not right.

I may not be a "profiler," but I can see that there's more to it.

She's probably just leaving out part of it.

Scara begins to rub her chest and stomach gently, like she's trying to make a pain go away. I've heard that phantom pains aren't uncommon down here.

"Phantom pains?" I ask carefully, as I gently rub her back.

"Yeah," she responds, as she relaxes and stops rubbing, "I usually get them when I think about...that."

I quickly try to think of something to say. However I don't need to because Emma and Hook walk down the stairs.

"Hey why are you two still up?" David asks.

"Couldn't sleep," Emma shrugs as she and her boyfriend sit across the table from us. My oldest daughter takes her sister's hand from across the table.

"I know it's wrong to eavesdrop, but we couldn't help overhear. I'm sorry about what happened."

Scara suddenly has tears running down her face. I can only imagine how emotional it is to remember your own death.

Scara's pov

I can't contain my tears any longer. My sister and parents think I've been nothing, but honest since they found me. Technically I just left out the pirate part, but it still feels wrong.

I also begin to think of what really happened the day I died which makes more tears stream down along with a few more phantom pains. I quickly pull myself together and ignore the pains before my parents have a chance to comfort me again.

"Sorry," I say quickly, wiping my eyes with my free hand.

"You don't have to be," Emma says, lightly squeezing my hand.

"Swan's right," Killian adds, "it's alright."

I give them both a small smile.

"Why don't we take over while you all get some shut eye?" Killian suggests.

"Thanks, Hook," my father says, standing up.

"His name's Killian," Emma corrects.

"Sorry."

"No problem, mate."

Snow and Charming head upstairs.

"Regina conjured up a bed for you earlier. It's in the room under the stairs."

"Thanks," I say, getting up.

I'm probably not going to sleep, but I don't want to seem ungrateful.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they chime.

I get into the room and carefully shut the door behind me. I walk over to the bed and quietly sit down. When I'm certain the bed doesn't make noise, I relax and ungracefully flop down.

Soon after I lay down, I can feel my eyes begin to flutter shut.

I should've expected it to happen. Not only has this been a long, exhausting day, it's been two years since I've even seen a bed. All I've had was a pile of leaves and my jacket.

I pull off my jacket and hold it close. I consider it to be mine when in reality, it isn't.

It's Chris'.

I bring the worn-out jean jacket up close to my nose. Even after two years, I can still faintly smell the mint. No matter what time, day or night, Chris always smelt like mint, and so did his clothes.

I gaze down at my long sleeve shirt and immediately tears spring to my eyes. You can still see the blood stains and where I sewed up the holes on my white shirt.

I wipe my tears, crawl in the bed, and pull Chris' jacket close to me. The comfort of the bed, my exhaustion, and the familiar smell all combined cause me to fall asleep in less than 5 minutes.