Of hope that was, of guilt that was (Fisk)
Wilson Fisk came from a broken home. Not broken in the traditional sense, there had been no divorce, as far as he was aware there had never been a morning marriage to balance out his parent’s evening, but still it was broken. He thinks that maybe it wouldn’t have gone as bad as it did if there’d been a full sedoretu. His father was a mad dog, dangerous to his evening wife, and dangerous to his child, but if there’d been a morning sister to call him out, to challenge him, if there’d been an evening husband with the strength to defy him where the evening woman alone dared not. If there’d been three against one to keep him in line, maybe things wouldn’t have played out like they did.
Half a marriage is a fragile, risky thing, Fisk has always known that, the truth of it sinking in with his father’s blood on his hands, and if that half is the night marriage alone then even more so. If there had been no child, if he hadn’t been there, then Fisk knows his father would have killed his mother long since, and he is under no delusions that he is any more stable than his father was. So he treats Wesley as an assistant, as a friend, but never a lover. He will not make the mistake his parents made, if he marries Wesley he will do it properly, with all the checks and balances and stability inherent in a full Sedoretu.
He wants to. Wesley is perfect, in ways that Wilson never will be. He is calm and collected, always, he knows what Wilson needs even before Wilson himself does, he is efficient and reliable and Wilson trusts him in ways that he has never trusted anyone. He knows Wesley feels the same way about him, you don’t do the things Wesley does for him if you don’t care, but still he was slightly surprised when Wesley confronted him about it. Asked him why he held back, why he wouldn't admit that he cared. James wasn't usually so forward, and Wilson hadn’t been expecting it, so he answered him honestly instead of brushing him aside.
“A long time ago I… swore that I would never half marry. It’s too… unstable, things go wrong and there’s no way to fix them. I care about you Wesley, if I were ever to marry you I would want to do it properly. Four not two.” Wesley had looked startled, as though it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. It was a moment before he spoke and when he did it was pure Wesley. Sensible, and practical, with a way of cutting through the problems to find the most elegant solution.
“Well in that case, we’d better find some women then.”
Despite the fact that it was Wesley who had first suggested finding women to complete their Sedoretu, it was Wilson who actually found someone first. He didn’t know why, but there was just something about her that drew her to him.
Vanessa was probably fifteen kinds of a bad idea, she was an honest citizen for starters. It was impossible to know how she’d react when she found out what he and Wesley really did, and she would find out. You couldn’t found a marriage on a lie that big, not without things going very badly wrong. She was fifteen kinds of a bad idea, but she was also beautiful, and intelligent, and charming, and somehow before he even knew what was happening, he found himself telling her things about himself, things that he’d never even told Wesley. She listened, and she sympathised, and she did not judge, and he knew. This was one of the women he was going to marry, this was his morning wife. And then she found out and honestly her reaction was far better than he ever could have hoped. She was brilliant, and beautiful, and determined, and she knew what he was, and still she chose him, and he couldn't believe he was so lucky.
Her and Wesley’s introductions went well. He’d been dropping hints from the first night, telling her about his assistant, telling her that the wine she liked had been chosen by him, telling her how loyal and supportive he was. He’d been desperate for them to get along. As soon as they met he knew he needn’t have worried. James and Vanessa had connected like moiety siblings that had known each other all their lives. Wilson had never been so happy to have people conspiring against him, he wasn’t sure what the two of them were planning, but the way it made both of them smirk, made him sure that things could work out with the three of them.
All they had to do now was find an evening wife. It was easier said than done but they had time. They were young, and had the world at their feet, and their Sedoretu was three quarters built. They would find someone.
It all went wrong so quickly. One moment they were top of the world and the next Vanessa was in the hospital, and James was dead, after that it was so, so easy to fall. Before they knew it, Wilson was in jail, and Vanessa was in exile, and James was in the cold hard ground, and all of their hopes had come to ashes. Ashes and blood. Maybe even a full marriage couldn’t have saved them, but Wilson couldn’t help but wonder. If there had been an evening wife would someone have been paying closer attention to where James went, maybe one of them would have gone with him to watch his back, while the other hovered over Vanessa’s hospital bed. Maybe if they’d been a full sedoretu, his supporters would have viewed the situation as a stabilising influence, and wouldn’t have tried to poison her in the first place. Maybe the evening wife could have helped him keep it from all falling apart after Wesley died.
Sitting alone in his cell Wilson couldn’t help but imagine the kind of evening wife they might have had. Someone strong, stubborn, who could stand up to him in his worst moods, ruthless enough to stand by his side and be the sister he never had. It was nothing but idle fancy now. He’d had a chance at a happy ending, but it was gone, and he doubted very much that there would be another chance. He hopes Vanessa forgets him, if she does maybe she at least will have a future.