SEVEN FOREVER IN MY HEART

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     Erebus couldn't sleep. This was an oddly human experience, he realized, but that was something to worry about later. The only part of being human he needed to be fearful of was remembering his past. That was when things would begin to turn on him, but until then, he could handle a fitful night of sleep. It was almost sunrise and they were running out of time, Erebus knew this. Still, something was bugging him, causing an itch in his brain that was not going to let him rest. It was something about that name.

Sam Wilson. Where did he know that name from? It sounded so familiar, but there was no way he knew it from his past life. HYDRA made sure every fragment of who he used to be would be completely erased. They made sure of that over, and over, and over. There was simply no way. He had to have been important to the mission beforehand. There was a chance his name was mentioned in passing, but then the Soldier would have remembered it as well.

He stood up from the bed, hearing the other man in the house shuffling around as well -- probably trying to figure out how the hell they were going to take out their targets. That was something that could be figured out in the daytime, though, at least, that's how Erebus was looking at it.

With a sigh, he began to look around the room, heading towards a desk that had been shoved in the corner with a few small drawers. Whoever had cleared this safe house for them had removed pretty much anything that would have indicated anyone had lived there in the past, but there were still little markers that couldn't be removed. Erebus ran his hand across the mahogany desk, his fingers taking in every etch and scratch in the wood, a sign that someone had existed before him. Walking over to the closet, he saw pencil markings against the white wall, lines, and dates. The last one was just under six feet off the ground, reading J, 07/23/94. Erebus wondered who "J" was and where he was now, he wondered if he ever got taller.

Something pulls him over to that desk again. He doesn't know why, but he opens one of the drawers. It's empty, of course, it's empty. Still, Erebus has a feeling that can't be all. He feels around the drawer, finding a loose corner and pulling up. It's a false bottom, but the drawer can't be deep enough to really hide anything of value. Still, he lifts up the board and finds nothing except for a single photograph. It's faded, but not so much that it's yellowed or the quality has been lessened. Looking at it, Erebus sees a boy leaning against a tree, his skin dark and features sharp, but there is someone else in the picture as well. Another boy rests in the other's lap, his hair shaggy and blond, a blinding smile on his face. They look... happy. So, incredibly happy. Erebus doesn't remember ever feeling such a thing. He flips the photo around and sees in a messy scrawl on the back, Jeremiah & Sam, summer '95. Lower in the corner, there's another message, but the handwriting is different, it reads, "forever in my heart - sam."

He knows he shouldn't, in fact, he doesn't even know why he wants to, but he takes the photo, placing the false bottom back in the drawer and shutting it, keeping the photo for himself. He doesn't know who these two boys are, but he can only assume this used to be Jeremiah's home, judging by the "J" in the height measurements. He doesn't know why he places the photo in the small bag of his things, but he felt compelled to keep it. Something about that photo felt... genuine. Genuinity was something Erebus no longer understood, but why he would want a reminder of a feeling he no longer knows is beyond him. Still, he doesn't return the photo to its home. He doesn't think he ever will.

"What am I doing?" he mumbles to himself, running a hand through his messy hair. He catches his reflection in the mirror, something he doesn't take time to look at often. Amidst the facial hair growing in and the sharp cheekbones, he wonders if he was ever a boy like the ones in the photos. Young, cheeks still chubby with youth, a whole life ahead of him. He wonders if he was simply spoken into existence by HYDRA, not meant to exist other than to be a monster. That seems more likely than to believe he was ever someone so innocent. He forces himself away from the reflection. This is a dangerous slope to climb down and he needs to pull himself back up before he stumbles. He is Erebus. He is chaos. He needs to get his act together. He cannot let the Winter Soldier know he's faltering, no doubt that man would turn him in in an instant. He already knows his cohort has gone through the brainwashing enough times for it to have stuck by now. The problem is Erebus is not sure the same can be said for him and that thought alone is terrifying.

There's a knock on the door and his head whips up. His colleague can't read minds, can he? How did he know? Trying to act normal, Erebus opens the door, raising his eyebrows.

"What's up?"

"We need to go, there's a leak. It's Stilwell, our targets got to him before we could get to our targets. We're running out of time, let's go," the man explains, his expression stony and serious as always. Erebus nods and gets ready to leave as quickly as he can.

As he is about to depart, his mind flashes back to the blurry picture of Captain America jogging with the man believed to be Sam Wilson and he thinks back to the inscription on the picture. "Forever in my heart - Sam." Sam is a common name, but Erebus has a feeling this isn't a coincidence. The boy in the picture is Sam Wilson, he's sure of it. He is absolutely sure. Now, he just needs to figure out what the hell that means for the mission. Still, they have bigger fish to fry.

"Ready?" Bucky asks, handing Erebus coordinates. He nods.

"Ready."