Portrait

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, Marvel does. I also don't own the song, Dear Ephesus does. I do own the story.

John hated Walter and Angela. They were the two worst characters he had ever devised, but his publishers loved them, so he had to make them work. Had to. 'Stupid contract,' John thought to himself as he began to type what he considered the worst piece of work ever written. He had thought that when he got in the business of writing he would be surrounded by other writers and that the publishers would be people who cared more about the art than what was commercial. He found out after his first novel had sold a measly 20,000 copies just how wrong he was. They continued to push him to make the characters less dark, more caring, happier. "Not all people are like that though," he'd insisted in the last argument he'd had with his publisher. "No, but that's what people want to read about," they'd said and that was that. John would have to write this story. In fact the only good thing going for him was that this was his last novel for the publisher and then he could leave, but then what? If all publishers were like this then he didn't want to write for publishers anymore. He didn't even know if he wanted to write anymore after this. It wasn't just having to do whatever his publishers demanded, it was the fact that the anger he built up working in his office followed him home where it would then attack Wanda, his wife, one of the first to ever stand behind him when he had started to write when he wasn't teaching.

she's a princess in her name alone
and how her beauty exceeds the moon
a breath of life when she fills his space
but he don't notice he's been so consumed
he truly loves her

Wanda was patient, she knew he wasn't mad at her, but rather at his job. Still it seemed like every year she had to put up with two months of him being pissed at the world. It was a cycle, which she'd dealt with for the last five years. From November until July he'd be great. There was never more than the usual argument between the two of them. Everything was great during the months when he wasn't writing, but just teaching English at the Institute and...spending time with her, talking with her, making love to her. However, in the months he wrote he would rapidly decline in happiness. He was short when she spoke with him. He never felt like going anywhere or doing anything. Sometimes he would try to leave work at work and things would be ok for a week, but he'd get frustrated and it would start going back to what it had been. Some days he never came home, just stayed at his office for the night. It was during these months that she felt more alone than she ever had before. When she talked to the other teachers at Xavier's they always seemed to find solace from the classroom in their husbands, wives or some significant other. She looked for it in her classroom, from the children, three quarters of which didn't seem to care one way or the other about the Crusades or the Magna Carta. Still, in the classroom she was Mrs. Allerdyce, an authority figure with whom you had to give your utmost attention. At home she was Wanda, wife to a man she loved very much, but was never sure how make things better for him during those long two months when he'd write.

'This isn't right' John decided, 'this hell I put her through its not right.' He looked at the computer screen to see where the story was and saw that it had reached an ending. It wasn't a satisfying ending to John, but then the story had never been satisfying either. Why should he waste his talents on such a waste of time... That's exactly what this has been. A waste of time for John. Time he could have spent teaching, time he could have spent with Wanda, and time he could have spent writing what he, and not his publishers, wanted to write. It had taken him three years to realize this. Why? He wasn't sure, but he knew he had the freedom to do something about it. 'Walter and Angela, how trite, the two of you deserve a bad ending.' With that John saved the story and closed his laptop. He left his office and closed the door behind him. He made his way down the stairs and then out the door, hailing a cab.

they're a portrait of grace in many shades
and he's growing learning more each day
you know she loves him in spite of all his ways
they're a portrait of grace in many shades

Divorce, Wanda had heard the word so seductively spoken in her mind. Divorce from two months of frustration and loneliness. 'You have a problem,' it said, 'just divorce it a way.' Wanda had never given in though, she refused because she knew it would get better. It had to because she couldn't bare it to get worse. She looked up and saw that her break was over, time to head back to class. When John taught here during the spring they would often have lunch in a grove they had found near the back of the school building. She smiled at the memory of her and John being discovered in the grove making out by one of his students last spring. John had simply said, "Cheers mate, see ya in class," as if nothing had happened. The student simply nodded and left the way he'd come. Wanda had blushed so brightly this day, John smirked and kissed her lips ever so slightly and then stood up before offering her his hand. As far as she knew the student had never said another word about it. John was like that though, he was laid back and funny and charming, except during those two months when he wrote, when he was on edge all day long. Still, Wanda knew she could deal with two months if it meant having him for the other ten. She would have to.

sense the water rain aloud
fire covers burns the house for love
ears that hear know for what to wait
a timeless picture suspended in grace
he truly loves her

"Olright there Archie," John said as soon as he had entered his publisher's office. His publisher's name wasn't Archie, but John had always called her that for some reason. "Oy have here the latest novel by Johnothon Wilkes Duluth." The name was a pen name he had picked up when he began receiving assignments he would rather not have tarnished his own name with, "The last in a series by this fellow. So there it is," he said as he handed over the lap top, one which he would never write on again.

"That's great John, so when do you want to start discussing a new contract," 'Archie' asked. She knew there was something wrong when a wicked grin split John's face. "Well you see Archie. Oy hate to say it, but Johnothon Wilkes got hit by a car on the way over here and will not survive after he does the final edit of the book unfortunately."

"I see, so where does that leave us."

"Well, Oy suppose it leaves you out one Johnothon Wilkes and around $40,000 which will go to his good brother St. John Allerdyce."

"Wait, listen Johnny, come on now. There's gotta be some way to work this out. I mean we helped make Johnothon Wilkes."

"Yes, that's very true and to be honest with you Oy hated the bloke, sort of a selfish bastard if you know what Oy mean. Anyways you have his number so give him a call about the final edit, Oy'm sure he'll do it, but try to do it as soon as possible after all the poor man could die at any moment," John said as he headed out the door without a look back. He briefly thought about setting the place aflame, but decided the building wasn't worth it.

his secret heart comes out at night
vessel torn down oh beauty bright
silence hears her cry
he longs for light
she is alone
but he is coming home

Wanda set her bags down inside the apartment. She saw their cat, Thermal, sleeping on the couch. She had made up her mind on the way home. Tonight she would wait for him, they would make dinner together, eat together, make love together. It would be like it was throughout the rest of the year. She took off the jacket and scarf she had been wearing and placed them on the coat rack. John entered just behind her and smiled at the sight of his wife. He hugged her from behind. "Allo." She felt a tear in her throat. "Hi," she whispered back.

"Oy'm sorry."

"Its ok."

"No, its not, but it'll never happen again."

"Why?"

"Oy'm done with them. The contract is over, the book just needs a final edit, and the money is on the way to the bank. Oy've talked with the professor and he says the kids'll be more than happy to take me back for the rest of the semester. Are you happy?"

"Yes," she said as she turned to see any deception in his eyes, but she found none. He smiled gently and kissed her lips before leading her to their bedroom and shutting the door.

love has endured
a protrait of His hand
kindle the heart
a walk eternal