Author's Note: Thanks for your patience. This 'simple small story' that took 20 minutes to plan and fit into a napkin just expanded while writing. Hence it growing to 4 chapters rather than the oneshot it was supposed to be.

New people have yet again noted, so thanks to RayneSummer and everyone else who takes time to read. Thanks for all the comments and favs.

This felt like it needed nostalgy feeling, so it was finished typing to 7 Days to the Wolves by Nightwish.

Without further ado, the last chapter. Hope you like it.

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Both of them behaved while they walked to Mr Jackman's car, which wasn't far off the square. He really did live nearby, which Nate was sure Sam was making a mental note of for future reference. The policeman drove them back to the orphanage, ocasionally peeking on Sam through the rearview mirror as if he was checking if he was still there.

Expecting some outburst even before they turned to the orphanage's street, Nate held on to the books tightly and vowed to not let anyone take them away. A caretaker recognized Mr Jackman's car and the Morgan brothers from afar and opened the gate, waving his head dissaprovingly at both of them but without saying a word.

Sister Catherine wasn't so silent.

"Nathan Morgan!" She did sound genuinely concerned, and Nate let his gaze fall down and his arms tightened even harder around the wrapped presents. She eyed the packages, but was more focused on letting out her worry. "You know how worried sick we all were? How could you just run off like that? Sister Mercy nearly fainted from distress after you left off!"

Crap, that was really something he would have to repent in confession later, wasn't it? He didn't intent to frighten Sister Mercy... but he had such a good time with Sam, he didn't really regret having fled. He didn't want to worry anyone, but...

"We've already called the police office. A lot of people got warned, and now we have to call again and tell them to stop their efforts."

Sam scoffed beside Nate. "For a couple of kids? Are we wanted murderers?"

"I will talk with you next, Samuel," Sister Catherine said sharply, barely looking at Sam.

Attracted by the sound, several other nuns and youngsters came by, half of them showing relief, the other half showing accomplishment.

"I am going to tell Father Duffy," one of the caretakers said while Sister Catherine thanked Mr Jackman.

"Everything's alright, Sister. Just one more for Morgan, huh," the policeman said calmly.

"Try as we may..." she whined and sighed to Mr Jackman, and exchanged a couple of words with him before her gaze lowered from the tall man's and grew colder as it did so. "Samuel."

"Hello, Sister Catherine."

"In what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

"I'm not always into trouble, Sister, you know I also need time to sleep." Sister Catherine didn't find it a single bit funny, so Sam chuckled for both of them.

"Troubles besides trying to push your brother into criminal activities?"

"Please, what criminal activities? What wrong did I do? He's my brother, I'm not kidnapping him, we just went to have lunch! Police and whatnot just because two kids didn't-"

"It's precisely because Nathan is eight. He's not fourteen or eighteen, he's eight-"

"I'm nine..." Nate mumbled under his breath, seeing as everyone congratulated him over and over throughout the day, might as well do the grand age transition announcement. Sister Catherine obviously didn't hear him.

"-and you are fourteen. You are not his father, you are not his caretaker. None of you can leave this home without permission. Do I really need to tell you all the reasons why you cannot do so, everything that can happen to you both? If you're set in going to a juvenile hall, you should at least worry about protecting your brother from the same fate. You are hopeless, young man."

"Sister Catherine, please." Father Duffy's voice sounded from the corridor, and the priest approached escolted by the caretaker. "Samuel, Nathan, it's good to see you both well. We were very worried, specially when you disappeared, Nathan."

"I'm sorry, Father Duffy..."

"We'll talk later, alright? Samuel, it's been some days, hm? Will you come with me to my office?"

Sam evaded the priest's eyes and opened his arms a bit snooty, but sighed and bowed his head in apology soon after.

"Mr Jackman should probably stay, just in case there needs to be some police form about lifting," Sister Catherine added, signaling Sam's backpack just like he had anticipated.

Father Duffy might have said something against it, but seeing as Mr Jackman was there already and not being blindly naive of the possibility, the priest asked if the policeman would mind waiting some minutes. Nate could but watch Sam's unhappy face as he had to let go of the backpack, though Nate did feel a bit more relieved that he was the one to have all the antique coins stuffed protectively in his pockets. Sam did have the pirate doubloon with him, but...

"Mr Jackman has to file this one in too?" Sam pulled out the smoke pack from his pocket, to Father Duffy's clear sigh. "Sorry, Father Duffy."

"You should apologize to yourself and the lifelong addiction you're creating before you apologize to me, Samuel."

"Can I at least keep the lighter? I like lighters."

Mr Jackman waved his head, but there was a small smile on his face as the group started to walk.

"What are those packages, Nathan? Where did you get them from?"

Something inside Nate crashed and jumped and hurt just like when they nearly had the accident earlier. Another Sister, a mean nun called Sister Angela, pointed out the wrapped presents on his arms, and immediately Sister Catherine stopped and turned to him.

"I presume they're from you, Samuel. May we know where you got them?"

"Come on, I got them, ok, I bought them. I didn't steal, ok? Don't take them away from him." Sam's previous jest vanished and he didn't look well all of a sudden.

Sister Angela had an even sterner heaviness to her wrinkled forehead, and Nate turned in begging sympathy to Father Duffy, who thankfully had stopped too.

"He had just finished buying them when I found the two," Mr. Jackman said instead, attracting the gazes to his direction, Nate and Sam's widder than anyone else's. "I can't say where he got the cash from, but we all know if there's one thing about Morgan, is that he cares for his brother. It's Nate's birthday, it's just a present. Morgan didn't struggle or tried to run away or anything when I told them I'd bring them home, all because of the circumstances. There's no need to take the boy's presents."

Trying not to ruin everything by looking dumbfounded, both Sam and Nate exchanged quick glances before trying to put on their best and quickest poker faces, Nate's opinion on the policeman going around 180ยบ degrees again.

He was let off the hook, but obviously Sam had still quite a bit of talk and scolding ahead, hopefully not something more. Nate was sent to his room, which was rationally the only thing he could really do in this moment. He tried to thank Mr. Jackman, but hoped a silent glance and faded smile would be enough for the man to interpret.

Nate crossed the rows of corridors he knew better than the palm of his hand and climbed the staircases, deciding that if anyone tried to pick on him and steal the books he would rather fly clenched around them than letting go. The boys he came across said basically slight variations between "Everyone was really worried", "You got to steal something?", "Back already? Dumbass" and no one did anything so he could quickly go by.

The room was blessfully empty, all the beds made more or less well and everyone enjoying the fresh weather outside or scattered through the playrooms. Without wasting a minute, Nate rushed to his bed and jumped up, eyeing the wrapped presents for the last time before rushing to tear the paper off. It was obviously books, but... Sam's wink, and the earlier conversation... that would mean he had lied and would have a lot to apologize for in confession (if he cared much for confession that was) but...

He unwrapped the brown paper and removed the book inside. It was actually two books, wrapped together in a larger package. His brow frowned in confusion; it was a psalm book, which was obviously odd. There were dozens, hundreds of religious books in the orphanage, and this one felt strange. He passed the hand by the cover, finding the texture completely different from what he was used to, no usual leather binding or careful imprinting. He should have noted just by looking that it was a paper cover, brand new. And it didn't fit perfectly with the hard cover bellow, or the slightly yellowed tone of the pages. Nate turned the book on his hands and opened both sides of the cover, confirming his thoughts on the odd paper; it was added, a simple make up effort just to pass by unnoticed at first sight. It slipped effortlessly from the sides right out as soon as he slid it. The real hardcover bellow had a decently preserved old texture and the familiar roughness sent a slight excited jolt through his arm. He turned the book up again and the letters 'The Book of Buried Treasure' followed by a large sub-title in smaller lettering, by Ralph Delahaye Paine, met his surprised stare.

Holy shi- crap.

Too excited to wait, he pulled the second book from the paper and again found a psalm fake cover. Now seeing through the simple deceit, he peeled off the added paper and 'When Egypt Ruled the East' by George Steindorff and Keith Seele was beneath. Both were second editions, which obviously meant they weren't bought in the nearest bookstore.

Holy shit! Historical books! Egypt! Sam knew how much he liked mummies first and foremost and knew all about canopic jars and mummification and knew the different Pharaohs and several lineages by heart; and pirates! He wouldn't resist grooming Nate for a shared interest. These were brilliant!

Nate's cheeks were hurting a bit from smiling when he recalled he had a second package on his bed. He unwrapped the paper and again felt the startle of surprise, though this time it felt slightly different.

It was a notebook. It was completely distinct, yet there was a pinch of unwanted recognition. Not white, a black leather binding, but Nate couldn't help but get a quick flash of the notebooks he would never see again. This notebook smelled new and pleasant. He opened the cover, very different from their mother's, and the different handwriting inside had a small message adressed to him rather than the long dissertations she used to write.

I wish it could be more, and I know it'll take you about a day to devour each book, but I hope you'll enjoy all the freaky mummies you like so much. (I'm kidding, I know it's more about Pharaohs than mummification!)

And ok, this is really what I want to say: I know pirates aren't your favorite subject, but maybe reading a bit more about them will help change your mind. You have all these pages to write down your analysis!

Happy 9th birthday Nathan.

Sam

PS: Let me read it later too, ok? The Book of Buried Treasure, not the mummies one.

A quick annoying sting made him scratch his eye with his sleeve. Nate re-read the note and then lowered the black notebook, laying it on his side. Before any analysis, he would begin by describing this day. But for now, he placed back the fake paper covers on his relique books and placed his pillow against the wall, crossing his legs and getting as much sunlight as he could, and began reading The Book of Buried Treasure.

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the end


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Author's Note: I've known many nuns, and 90% of them were really nice. I also know someone who had the opposite opinion and experience, so it's a matter of perspective and people. Nate's perspective of the orphanage wasn't the best and the people he met were not the best, so, the nuns through his eyes weren't the best.

Those two books Sam gave Nate are legit (as is 'A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates'! Gotta love Naughty Dog), neither are as old as A General History of the Pyrates but as old as hopefully Sam would find in an antique store circa 1980.

I do plan to write at least one more fic about the Drake Brothers, but at least the first chapters will not be light nor pleasant. Let's see if I don't jynx it just by talking about it. Maybe someday.

Thank you to everyone who read and reads in the future. I really appreciate your time, and if you can leave a review/feedback/opinion, that would be great. See you.

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