Memories
Memories were interesting things.
He loved hearing about Hetty's memories. Long-past cases in exotic locales. Long-past liaisons with the famous and infamous. Hetty's memories were a nine-volume series of memoirs waiting to happen.
He tended to tune out Sam's memories because Sam's memories were almost always about things he'd done wrong. "Remember that time in Mexico when you used the wrong alias?" or "Remember what happened when you forgot to duck at the pier?" Sam's memories were ways that Sam reminded him of missions gone wrong or decisions he shouldn't have made or times he should have listened to Sam. Sam enjoyed remembering a little too much.
Of course, some of Sam's memories were darker. Moe … Dom … Afghanistan … Sarajevo. He could always tell when Sam went to those places. And it was his job to get Sam out of the past and back into the present.
Now … if you wanted someone who could tell you exactly what each individual memory meant – in great detail – that was Nate. Nate could dissect a snippet of a hint of a memory of a ride on a carousel when you were three and turn it into a 27-page psychological report that led to 14 hours of debriefs and discussions. Nate was scary that way.
His memories, though. Those were different. He'd created so many covers for himself. There were so many past lives he had to remember besides his own. It was hard to keep track. He wasn't always sure what was a true memory and what was something that he so badly wanted to remember that he'd talked himself into it.
He'd figure it out eventually. He just hoped that when he did, he'd find that the memories he was looking for were actually worth remembering.