I have the time management skills of a carrot sometimes, but that's nothing new haha.

This bonus chapter was meant to celebrate TUS getting 100K reads, but I couldn't decide between this one and an Alternate-Style chapter where Nathan takes Claire's statement instead of Michael. And now it's at 105K reads!!!

Anyway, this one won. Thank you for getting me and my story to this milestone! Without further ado..

This chapter picks up just after Chapter 40. The End, when Nate took Tasha to the Capital.

In the past 28 years, Nathan had gone through two extremely difficult things. Losing his father was one, and the death of his sister was the other. After that, he thought he'd suffered his fair share and the universe wouldn't take anything else from him.

He was wrong.

Driving away from Natasha, not knowing if he'd ever see her again, felt like the cruelest blow life had ever dealt him since he lost half his family. For a moment, he entertained the idea of pulling over and running back to her to beg her for a chance. She was still standing there after all, watching him drive away with a sad expression that mirrored the pain in his heart.

But she'd made her decision and maybe she had a point. There was too much baggage between them for their relationship to work.

Fate really had a crappy sense of humor. He'd spent most of his adult life running away from any kind of emotional connection because of the guilt he felt over his sister's death. Now he'd finally opened up his heart to love, only to have it snatched away by the very reason that finally absolved him of his guilt.

Forget the crappy sense of humor, fate was just heartless.

He had a three-hour journey ahead of him, and the last thing he needed was to spend the entire trip beating himself up and trying to make a decision about what to do next. So he switched on the radio, letting the music and occasional banter of the radio anchors distract him.

The miles flew by in a music-filled haze and before long, he was pulling into his parking spot outside his apartment. He turned off the car, silencing the music that had been his sole companion throughout the trip. Now that the radio was off, his thoughts were haunting him again. Something Natasha had said in particular was banging around in his head and he needed it to stop.

There was only one thing he knew that could shut out unwanted thoughts. Before he could rethink his decision, he drove out again, solely focused on his path until he reached his destination.

Since it was late in the evening on a weekday, the supermarket was fairly empty. He headed to the liquor section, the one place he'd avoided since he moved to Pinehive. There were so many bottles to choose from. Brown, clear, red. He'd tried them all before so long ago, he couldn't even remember how any of them tasted. So, which one would he take on his one-way trip to oblivion?

He reached out to grab a bottle from the shelf, picking randomly. His hand shook, protesting the action, but he pushed past the resistance and picked one, holding it with both hands.

His feet refused to move to go to the counter and he stood rooted to the spot, staring at the bottle in his hands. Part of him knew he should put it back and walk away. But then an image of Natasha snuck back to the forefront of his mind, giving him the push he needed to move.

Once he paid, he went outside and into his car. He opened the bottle to take a drink and hesitated, warning bells wreaking havoc in his head. This time, Carey's face came to haunt him, making him crumble and recoil. He leaned his head back, screwing his eyes shut against the pain, while he held on to the bottle with all his might as if it was his lifeline.

A knock on his window startled him and some of the liquor sloshed onto his shirt. He closed the bottle and placed it in the cup holder then tried to wipe away the stain, but the damage was already done. The smell filled his car, clouding his mind even more. A second knock drew his attention and he looked up. Kelsey was standing at the window, waving at him.

He lowered the window a little and poked his head out, trying to keep her from seeing and smelling the mess he'd made. His efforts were in vain, judging from the way Kelsey scrunched up her nose and took a step away from his car.

"Are you drinking and driving, Detective?" she whispered harshly, looking around to see that no one could overhear her.

The way she said "detective" brought back another unwanted memory and he responded in a tone harsher than intended.

"No!" he said, to which she responded with a dubious look. "I was going to but then you knocked and I spilt some of it."

"Did you just get back from dropping Natasha off?"

Her name felt like a stab to the heart, especially now that he was hearing it out loud and not just in his head.

"I take it the goodbye didn't go too well," she remarked, glancing briefly at the bottle.

"It was a lot more than a goodbye," he murmured.

Kelsey opened his door, gesturing for him to get out. "I'm taking a walk to clear my head while my mum does her shopping. I'd really appreciate some police protection."

He wanted to decline her invitation but the expression on her face told him that wasn't an option. He locked up the car and they took off down the street, walking in silence at a leisurely pace.

"Whatever the problem is, I can guarantee you won't find the answer in a bottle of alcohol," she finally spoke up.

He sighed. "I just wanted the voices in my head to stop."

"And they might have," she nodded. "But what were you going to do when they inevitably came back after the alcohol wore off? Drink again? And again the next day, and the day after that?"

"I hadn't planned that far," he shrugged, sliding his hands into his pocket.

"You should've at least planned on drinking responsibly. How did you expect to get home after drinking in your car?"

"I don't know, okay!" he yelled, frustrated. Guilt struck him immediately after his outburst. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"I know about Carey and how Claire and her mum were connected to her death. Natasha took responsibility for their actions even though that's completely insane. She feels guilty about the pain you went through and the one you're burying now because of your feelings for her. If you want to get rid of that barrier, you need to get a shovel and dig that stuff up."

Nathan considered her words, churning them around in his head.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He nodded.

"If you really love her, and I'm pretty sure you do, deal with the past so you can work on a future for you and her."

***

With Kelsey's words in the forefront of his mind, he drove away, taking a familiar path to a place he'd been avoiding since Natasha had been shot.

Once he reached the place, he got out immediately, afraid that if he hesitated even a second, he'd change his mind. At the last second, he decided to take the bottle with him, then walked up to the door and knocked.

Caroline Henderson opened the door, smiling in delight at seeing her son. She moved to hug him, but stopped short when she noticed the bottle in his hands.

"It's not what it looks like," he rushed to say.

"It's not?" she asked warily. "You smell like a bar, Nathan."

"I wanted to drink, but I didn't go through with it. A little spilt on my shirt. That's what you're smelling. I promise."

She nodded, finally accepting his explanation, and invited him in.

After changing into an old t-shirt he found in his room, he joined her in the kitchen where she'd just finished preparing supper. Luckily, she always made a lot of food so there was enough for him too, even though his stomach was in knots and eating was the last thing on his mind.

The bottle he'd brought with him was on the sink next to some dirty dishes. He went over to it and spilled its contents into the sink."

"I appreciate the grand gesture, but now my kitchen smells like a bar," she said, teasingly.

"I didn't really think it through."

"It's fine. Open the windows and let some air in, it'll be gone soon. Let's eat."

They ate in silence, and did the dishes together afterwards, then sat at the kitchen table when they were done. He couldn't help remembering the last time they'd done that, when she convinced him to apologise to Natasha and stop running from his feelings for her.

"You were right," he said with a humorless laugh.

"Well, I always am, but which time are you talking about now?" Catherine asked, trying to lighten his mood.

He smiled appreciatively and said, "About Natasha. I had feelings for her..." He trailed off, twisting a corner of the dark blue table cloth in his hands. "I have feelings for her," he clarified.

Catherine regarded her son a little while before she replied. "Then why do you look like realising that is the worst thing that's ever happened to you?"

He sighed. That realisation wasn't even the worst of it. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"It's about Carey," Nathan said, in a cautious tone. 

His mother blinked as what he said hit her, then she slumped in her seat and closed her eyes.

"Mum," Nathan whispered, worriedly.

She opened her eyes and let out a slow breath. "You found out who killed her, didn't you?"

The question was so quiet, barely above a whisper, but he heard it and his whole body rebelled against answering it. 

"Yes," he said, fighting against the dread.

"Have they been arrested?"

"No. She's dead."

"She." Catherine mouthed the word silently. "I never imagined..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

Nathan understood her reaction. For a long time, after Carey's death, he always pictured what had happened, even though he tried hard not to. Nothing he ever imagined came close to the truth.

"I suppose death is some form of punishment," she said. "How did she die?"

"The reports say she committed suicide by locking herself in her car with the engine running and the exhaust fumes feeding into it."

He didn't bother pointing out that he thought the suicide was staged and someone else had killed her. She had enough to worry about as it was.

"When did this happen?"

"A few days ago."

That surprised her, but she didn't ask anything else. "Well," she said, forcing a smile. "I guess we can put that behind us now."

He was tempted to take the easy way out and leave it at that, but he knew if he didn't tell his mother the truth, it would haunt him forever.

"Don't you want to know who she was?"

She shook her head firmly. "It doesn't do me any good. She's dead now." She glanced at Nathan's apprehensive expression. "Is there a reason you want me to know her? Is it someone we know? Oh my--"

"Mum," he cut her off, placing a hand over hers. Her eyes were wide and her hands were shaking beneath his. "It's not someone you know exactly."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused and nervous.

Deciding to rip the band-aid off and get it over with, Nathan said, "Her name is Miranda Burke."

Catherine's expression went blank and she let out a sigh of relief, which only made things harder for Nathan.

"She was Natasha's birth mother," he went on and paused, watching her reaction closely.

She frowned, confusion clear on her face. "I don't understand..."

"It turns out, Natasha isn't really the judge's daughter. She was sort of adopted. Miranda is her birth mother and she was staying in Crenshaw with Natasha's twin sister, Claire."

"I heard about Claire on the news. She's the Baandieer Slayer."

Nathan nodded. "Claire was at the same school as Carey, and Miranda worked as a cleaner there." He went on to explain how Carey's accident had happened after Claire had killed her stepfather.

Catherine wrenched her hand out of his. "Accident? That wasn't an accident! They killed my baby to protect their secret." Tears fell from her eyes and she angrily wiped them away.

Nathan's heart sank and he went over to her to give her a hug. She shook in his arms, heart-wrenching sobs wracking her body. Silent tears slid down his face as he held his mother, trying to keep her from falling apart.

Finally, after a while, her sobs quietened down as they sat on the kitchen floor, drawing comfort from each other.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I thought of not telling you because I didn't want to bring all this up..."

"I'm glad you told me. Besides finally knowing what happened to Carey, this made you talk to me about her. You haven't done that since she died," Catherine said, cupping his face tenderly.

"I know. It was just too hard."

"What made you change your mind?"

He smiled sadly. "Natasha. And to some extent, her best friend."

She drew back from him a little. "Why did you almost drink today?"

"Natasha left the city and she believes we can never be together because of..."

"Because of something done by two people she didn't even know?" she said, eyebrow raised.

"Because I wasn't dealing with it. I didn't want to lose her over something that happened in the past, so I thought ignoring it would make it go away. Is that selfish of me?"

Catherine cupped his face, concern all over her face. "It's not, but I'm glad she pushed you to deal with this first. I won't lie, it's unsettling that she has a connection with the people who killed your sister. But you can't put that on her and she can't do that to herself either. I watched you nearly destroy yourself with this and I can't go through that again."

"It's ironic, right? She's doing the same thing she saved me from."

"And now you know what you need to do to help her."

"You're okay with me loving her, in spite of everything?" he asked. "Although it hardly matters now that she's given up on us."

"I would never ask you to give up someone that's made you happy for the first time in a long time. Especially not over misplaced guilt. But right now, you need to focus on yourself and how you move forward. Whether Natasha will be back in your life or not, you need to heal. We all do."

***

Thank you! If you're reading Last Seen Alive (the TUS spin-off), I've started a fun little contest for readers to win a chapter dedication. More details in the image below and on my wall. Hope you'll join the fun :)