Misunderstood

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  Jerome's sharp eyes watched as Tya's form entered the apartment building far below. He was nervous for her. For several reasons. He knew how important her brother was to her and he knew her brother was mixed up with some of the most dangerous criminals on the West coast.

He shifted his weight, balancing with his huge, black wings, shielded from sight by palm leaves. His sharp hearing picked up her footsteps. He could hear an elevator ding and he knew she was on her way up to Tyrone's top level apartment. He couldn't see through walls, but he was able to focus his hearing on specific sounds inside of the buildings within a two block radius. 

He heard her footsteps as she walked down a hall and then he stiffened when he heard her knock softly on a door. He held his breath. 

The door opened and Tyrone's voice came to him clearly. "What can I do for joo, lady?" Jerome couldn't see his face, but he could hear a suspicion in Tyrone's voice that came from years of having to constantly be on high alert for fear of being "stabbed in the back" by the people he dealt with on a daily basis.

"Tyrone..." Tya's voice was gentle and filled with love. Jerome's heart ached for her inside his chest and he silently prayed that her brother wouldn't break her's.

...............

Tya looked up into her brother's chiseled face. His eyes mirrored hers. They were shielded, though. She could barely speak his name as her emotions caught her breath in her throat. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but she held herself back knowing she needed to be cautious with him.

"Dat ees my name. Who are joo? Do I know joo, miss?" Tyrone folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. He seemed to sense that she meant him no harm. His initially aggressive posture slipped into a more relaxed one.

Tya fought for words. She'd had it all rehearsed in her head, but now, face to face with her twin, her last remaining blood kin, the words refused to surface.

"I... I... yes, you do know me," she began, fumbling a bit. "I mean... you should. Do you recognize my face at all?"

He regarded her, his eyes narrowing as he swept them over her features. "Joo look like.... well, joo look similar to a girl...."

Tya nodded her encouragement. "What girl?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Dis ees of no importance. Tell me who joo are before I close de door. I have no patience..."

"I am your sister, Tyrone," she finally blurted out. "And I have been watching over you for some time now."

He took a step back, his eyes wide. He looked past her up and down the hallway before swinging the door nearly all the way closed. With hardly a crack to see through he growled at her, "Who sent joo, lady? Joo better start talking. Who are joo?"

Tya panicked. Maybe it had been too soon after all. Maybe she should have waited a bit longer. Suddenly doubt and confusion clouded her thoughts, her confidence drained completely. She fumbled with the light fabric of her skirt and opened her mouth to speak. No words would come.

Just as she looked back up, he closed the door with a resounding clang. The sound contained a finality that she couldn't bear and she crumpled to the floor with a sob. "I am your sister!" she cried again, desperate for him to believe her. To open the door and take her into his arms and know who she was. The door remained shut and she cried quietly for a few moments before getting to her feet again. She dried her eyes and willed her bottom lip to stop trembling. The pain wracked through her body, a physical ache she knew could not be soothed except by the acceptance of her brother.

She turned and made her way back down the hall to the elevator. As she rode down, she tried to get a grip on her emotions. She knew Jerome was extremely sensitive to her moods and her feelings. She didn't want her sweet Falcon to have to feel this pain with her. He was so unconditionally protective of her. It was as though he had been there her entire life, yet they had only met weeks prior. Sometimes it felt as though he were her guardian angel who had come to physical existence in her life.

She stepped out into the sunlight and looked up toward the sky. A weak smile crept to her face when she saw his magnificent form descending from above. There were no other people on the quiet street. He landed lightly in front of her and without a word, swept her into the circle of his wings. She clung to him. In spite of her struggle to hold them back, the warm tears spilled down her face in rivers. 

Jerome wrapped his arms around her small frame and with one giant pump of his massive wing span, he swooped back into the sky, carrying her with him. She just held onto him and finally stopped fighting the pain she felt at her brother's rejection. Her sobs shook her and her Falcon absorbed every one of them. It felt as though he drew the sadness from her and into himself, carrying it for her. She had never felt as grateful for anyone in her life as she did for him in that moment. For the first time since losing her mother and her beloved brother, she didn't feel alone.

..............

Natasha paced back and forth like a caged panther. She was muttering to herself. Vivian looked up at her for the umpteenth time and then stood up, exasperated. "Will you please stop that, Tasha?" she nearly shouted.

Natasha came to an abrupt halt and looked over at the tall red-head as though she had forgotten she was even in the room. They were in the huge ballroom-turned-workout/ practice-area of the big hotel they called headquarters and home. Vivian took a step closer to the restless woman and placed her hands on her hips. "Why don't we work out or something? Do some yoga? Maybe meditation?" she suggested, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't want to work out. I want to go see him," Natasha growled. She tossed her head, her long dark hair rippling down her back as she turned to make another round. Vivian sprang forward and placed a hand on her arm, staying her gently.

"I know this isn't easy for you," she began, her voice calm and even. "Trust me, I know how it feels to have a crush..."

"It isn't a crush, you fool!" Natasha yanked her arm away. "He belongs with me. I belong with him. You weren't there! You have no idea what happened between us! You.... Arrggghh! Why do I even try to explain anything to you? You don't listen and you certainly don't believe me!"

"I never said I didn't believe you, but Tasha, listen to yourself. You know who you are talking about! Right? We're talking about Father Time. He isn't some random guy you can just run off with! He's an A.I. implanted in and derived from the personality of another man! He doesn't love! He doesn't care. He doesn't..."

"Yes he does!" Natasha screamed, cutting her off. She stood with her fists clenched and her legs spread apart as though she would attack Vivian at any moment.

Vivian gazed at her without saying anything. She let out a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. "If you want to waste your time and your life chasing the phantom persona of someone's split personality, I'm not going to try to stop you. But I think you should take a moment and think about it. Try to think with a rational mind about what you are feeling and what you are doing."

"He is not a 'phantom'. He is very real and very much a person of his own. He has separate ideas and feelings. Separate from Jackson Wolfe," Natasha argued, her voice back under control now.

Vivian shook her head. "That is what you seem to refuse to understand or accept, Tasha. Father Time can't feel. It's impossible. Lillian already tried to explain this to you and..."

"I know what she said. I heard every word. I am not trying to knock the smart doctor and her scientific knowledge, but she doesn't know everything. She doesn't know him."

"She pretty much created him. Unintentionally. Well... she designed and created the technology to make it possible to create him and then she was forced to have a hand in bringing him into existence. I think she knows more than you do. Your hour of glory with the guy far from gives you any kind of expertise. Lillian knows what he is capable of and she told you that you are being a twit!"

Vivian's impatience and anger at the nutty woman's refusal to see logic or reason was beginning to show through her usually calm and cool exterior. Natasha glared at her as though she could easily choke her to death right then and there. Vivian's cool gaze did not waver and she held her ground. If Natasha was going to act like a twit, she was very well going to get used to being called one.

Without another word, Natasha whirled around and stalked out of the room. Vivian watched her go and took a deep breath. The conviction with which Natasha spoke was very convincing. She wondered if maybe it were possible that Dr. Wolfe was wrong about Father Time. She wondered if what Natasha felt and thought had any root in truth.

She shook her head and let out a quiet chuckle. No. Natasha... The Raven... was the least stable person in their group by far. She was kooky to say the least. She'd get over her infatuation in time. She had probably just responded to the emotionless manner of Father Time because he was not like any of the men who had come into her life before, each having a hand in creating the tornado of a woman that she was today. He was different. He didn't have an agenda with her. Wasn't trying to use or abuse her in any way. That was all. She would get over it. After all, how long could one possibly maintain feelings for a being such as Father Time?

Edited.

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