First off, I'd like to apologize for just how long it took to write this final chapter — you guys are all absolute saints for your infinite patience! It's much much much appreciated, and I can't thank you enough for understanding while I've dealt with an insane work schedule and somehow managed to finish my final semester of college relatively unscathed.

WHAM Warning: I feel one is necessary. Though this isn't a death-fic, I didn't quite put my characters back together as I found them. While not broken by any means, they are slightly cracked.


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Title: Terms of Endearment (5/5)
Author: angelic_editor
Rating: PG for mild language
Summary: This is a sequel to "Terms of Estrangement," which can be found here . It's probably best if you read "Terms of Estrangement" first, as this takes place directly after the events depicted. Now, Clark and Lois deal with the repercussions of his revelation.
Feedback: Better than chocolate, especially since I'm so new at this. Be brutal; I welcome comments and criticism of all kinds.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine; the words are. Please don't take legal action, as poor college students aren't worth suing, anyway.
Miscellaneous: What started out as a short vignette has turned into a multi-part story, thanks to the amazing feedback from readers! At first I was worried I couldn't do justice to the story I wanted to tell, but you've all been so wonderful and supportive that I find I can't stop writing! It wasn't always as fast as I'd like, but still evolved nonetheless. Seriously, guys, I can't thank you enough for your kind words of encouragement; I hope you enjoy. Also, like all my posts, this is unbeated, so all mistakes are my own — point and laugh at will.


Prequel - Part One
Prequel - Part Two
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four


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I will be the answer at the end of the line
I will be there for you while you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty, I will be your solid ground
And I will hold the balance if you can’t look down
— “Answer,” Sarah McLachlan



He was happy. Truly, deliriously happy. He’d never felt so simultaneously calm and quixotic.

He just wished he could keep his hands from shaking.

It was Lois — she affected him like no other woman ever had, and no other ever would. He was sure of it.

The double doors would open any second now, and she’d walk toward him, looking more beautiful, more radiant than possibly imaginable, and he was a bundle of nerves.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

He took a deep breath just as the violinist played the first strains of the wedding march.

The doors opened, and when Lois stepped into his line of vision, that same breath left him in a rush.

Clark swallowed hard, scarcely believing such loveliness could be personified.


She wants to spend the rest of her life with me, he thought dazedly, barely able to string together a coherent thought. And it’s not part of some cosmic joke. She really does.

Panic seized him.

Oh, God. How am I supposed to recite my vows when I can’t remember my own name?

But as she glided inexorably closer, Clark’s hands stopped trembling. His breathing evened out. He beamed at Lois, and she gave him a euphoric smile that calmed the last of his nerves.

His life had purpose and meaning — because of Lois.

And as she stopped next to him and they faced the altar together, Clark realized he’d never felt so secure, so certain of anything before
.


* * * * *


Lois squeezed Clark’s hand gently, pulling him from his reverie.

He returned the gesture, pouring his love and resolve into the tender sign of affection.

Don’t think, he warned himself. Just believe.

She gave him a grateful smile that was nearly his undoing. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice husky.

Clark felt his heart constrict. He hated hospitals — they were too antiseptic, too unfeeling. Too unsettling on a visceral level he couldn’t explain to himself, let alone his wife. And that made it all the worse — that Lois, the one person he cared about more than anyone, was at Metropolis General, waiting in a small, nondescript room that was too white, too bright, too cold to be anything but a maddening, nerve-racking holding cell.

Everything’s going to be fine, he told himself firmly.

“I love you, too.” He pressed his lips to Lois’ temple. “Remember that — no matter what.”


* * * * *


She was captivating. Even while he was restoring her fire-damaged kitchen to its previous immaculate state, his mind was only half on the tools in his hands.

She was just that incredible — he couldn’t
not think about her.

“ ... and I thought there had to be some kind of connection, so I just called my source at the mayor’s office and he was able to corroborate — Clark?”

Oops.

He flushed guiltily. He hadn’t realized he was staring quite so overtly at her animated features.

Focus, you idiot.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, averting his eyes to survey the charred countertop before him.

But instead of admonishing him, Lois suppressed a grin. “Don’t let it happen again,” she teased. “The fruits of your manual labor have to hold up to an inspection when you’re done, y’know.”

Clark raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “And who’s going to inspect my impeccable craftsmanship?”

Lois put her hands on her hips. “Why, me, of course.”

“Says the woman who set fire to her own kitchen.”

Lois’ eyes widened and her mouth formed an incredulous ‘o.’ “Clark Kent, you know that was an accident! I left the coffee maker on — ”

Clark raised his hands in surrender. “I know, I know.” He gave her a heart-stopping smile. “I just can’t help but wonder what happens when you use the stove.”

“Clark!”



* * * * *


“Mrs. Kent?”

Lois started, her hand jerking in Clark’s own, jarring him from his disjointed memories.

A nurse stood in the doorway, an understanding smile softening her features.

“I’m sorry it’s taking so long,” she apologized. “The doctor should be with you any moment now.”

Lois nodded. “Thank you.”

The nurse gave Lois another small smile as she shut the door on her way out.

Lois took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smoothing her hands down her black pinstriped pants. The gentle pressure of Clark’s hand on her back helped soothe her nerves, but she couldn’t look at her husband — not yet. She couldn’t face the depthless compassion in his brown eyes without tearing up.

Clark leaned in close, his lips close to her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said quietly, her voice unsteady.

Lois closed her eyes, willing away the tears that threatened to spill. If only the doctor would come through the door — if only she knew — she wouldn’t be such a jumble of emotions. It almost didn’t matter what the results were; the not knowing was infinitely worse.

She didn’t realize her entire body was trembling until Clark pulled her into his embrace. He stood behind the examination table where Lois was perched and wrapped his arms around her small frame.

She leaned back, grateful for the silent support.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she choked out, twisting her wedding band nervously.

“Hey,” Clark said gently, covering her hand with his. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”


* * * * *


So much confusion.

Panicked screams and disembodied cries for help. Smoke and dust swirled, forming an acrid fog. The debris seemed to stretch to infinity on all sides — the crumbled remains of ruined buildings and homes, churned-up sidewalks and haphazard chunks of concrete, broken benches strewn about, a crumpled compact car and ... a single, child-sized shoe.

Clark’s heart nearly stopped at the sight. He fervently prayed to whatever deity was listening that that child was safe in his or her parents’ comforting arms.

Focus, he told himself sternly. No distractions.

He worked tirelessly through the night, helping wherever he could, pulling survivors from the rubble, stabilizing buildings barely standing from the worst earthquake to hit Bangladesh’s capital in the last century.

Hour after hour, he never stopped moving. Hesitation meant death for some victims — as long as he could move, others would live.

When the Red Crescent arrived, he set up relief areas at super-speed. He delivered the wounded to the makeshift hospital tents. He unloaded cases of water and medical supplies from the delivery trucks.

Through it all, thoughts of Lois sustained him. When he wanted to stop and take a moment to process the horror of the situation, he imagined her honey-brown eyes. And he kept moving. The faster he moved, the more people he could help, and the sooner he could be back with his wife.

He pulled all the hurt, the pain, the terror and the confusion into a tight, mental ball and pushed it into a dark corner of his mind. He ignored the fear that clawed in the pit of his stomach, threatening to overwhelm him.

And he moved. Until grey morning light dawned on the shattered city, he moved. For the victims of the earthquake — and for Lois.

“Superman.” The general clapped a meaty hand on Clark’s spandex-clad shoulder. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” Clark replied, returning the gesture. He dropped his hand from the general’s shoulder, his dark eyes surveying the decimated area. “If you’ll excuse me, I — ”

“Superman, we can manage from here,” the general said quietly, studying the hero’s haggard features and the shadows beneath his haunted eyes. “I can’t tell you how grateful we are — how grateful the world is — for your aid. Without you — ” The general trailed off, unable to finish the thought. “But, please — the rest of the world needs your strength as well.”

Clark wanted to argue. He knew he should — but the weight of the situation had finally settled on his weary shoulders. He’d been nothing but a blur of constant motion for more than twelve hours, and even his superhuman reserves were nearly depleted. His cape was in tatters, the Suit stained with dust, dirt, sweat and ...
blood, he realized dimly. Blood from so many strangers.

He met the general’s concerned gaze and nodded.

The general clasped Clark’s hand. “Thank you, Superman.”

“Thank you,” Clark replied. “If you need anything, I’ll be here in no time.”

With that, he vaulted into the lightening sky, racing back to Metropolis.

He had to get back to Lois — he needed her. Had to see her, hold her to diminish the horrors he’d witnessed in Dhaka.

When he stumbled into the townhouse, physically and emotionally spent, she was there.

“Clark!” Lois ran into the kitchen, where he’d fallen onto the hardwood floor. She cradled his head in her lap, wiping his dirt-streaked face with shaking fingers.

“Clark,” she whispered, the pain in her voice audible. “Oh, Clark ... ”

She helped him out of the ruined Suit and into the shower, turning the hot water on full-blast. She joined him, scrubbing away the dirt, the sweat and the blood that caked his skin while he leaned against the tiled wall.

And when she was finished, she helped him towel off and led him to bed, wrapping her arms around him while tears — the silent, most painful kind — streamed down his cheeks.

“I love you,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “So much.”

“God, Lois,” he managed. “I — I love you. Thank you.”

“Shh,” she said softly. “Don’t thank me, Clark Kent. Just let me hold you.”

He gave her a weak smile and closed his eyes, determined to push away everything he’d seen half a world away. It was too raw, too horrifying to process just now.

His arms tightened around Lois. “You saved me,” he whispered thickly before sleep claimed him.



* * * * *


Click.

Dr. Kate Reddy turned the doorknob.

The faint noise brought Clark back to the present.

Lois stiffened in his embrace.

He rubbed her upper arm in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “Honey, I’m here.” And everything’s going to be fine. It has to be.

She nodded wordlessly and swallowed hard. “I know.”

Dr. Reddy stepped into the room, her blue eyes taking in Clark’s protective stance and Lois’ wary expression.

“Mrs. Kent, Mr. Kent,” she greeted them slowly, closing the door behind her. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long — I just wanted to be absolutely sure before I gave you the results.”

Lois exhaled sharply. “Well?”

She felt Clark’s hand tighten almost imperceptibly against her arm.

“Mrs. Kent — ”

“Kate, you can call me Lois. I’ve been seeing you for three years now.”

Dr. Reddy met Lois’ resolute gaze, then looked down at the clipboard in her hands. She cleared her throat.

“Lois, there’s no easy way to tell you this,” Dr. Reddy began.

Oh, God. Clark willed his hands to remain steady.

Lois took a deep breath. “Go on.”

“It’s multiple sclerosis.”

No. Clark felt his heart constrict. Wait. Stay calm. You can deal with this. Lois can deal with this. We can handle anything. We have to.

Lois was quiet for a long moment. “M-multiple sclerosis,” she said slowly, feeling the unfamiliar syllables roll off her tongue. “I — um, I’m not sure I’m up to speed with that particular — ah, condition.”

Dr. Reddy sat down on a beige stool and scooted closer to Lois and Clark.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to pinpoint it sooner,” Dr. Reddy said quietly. “It’s a difficult diagnosis, and there’s no known cure. Multiple sclerosis is thought to be contracted at a very early age — it’s a virus that lies dormant until the patient is in his or her late twenties, thirties, or sometimes even their early forties before the signs begin.

“MS turns the immune system against the body,” she continued. “The white blood cells attack the myelin sheath in the brain — that’s the protective coating around the nerves. The cells can cause deterioration of the myelin sheath basically anywhere, and depending on which area is affected — ”

“The corresponding part of the body is affected,” Clark finished tonelessly. With no known cure, his brain cruelly reminded him.

Dr. Reddy met Clark’s red-rimmed eyes, hating herself for having to convey such devastating news to the Kents. It was in situations like this one when she regretted her choice to become a doctor.

“Yes.”

“So that’s why it’s so hard to diagnose?” Lois asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Dr. Reddy repeated. “It’s an unpredictable disease.”

Lois nodded, absently twisting her wedding band. “So — that explains this numbness I’ve been feeling in my left leg and left arm. I assume it’ll only get worse?”

Dr. Reddy gave Lois an encouraging smile. “Well, actually, that’s where I have some good news for you. MS can progress very slowly or move at an alarmingly accelerated rate, but you’ve got the slowly progressing kind, Lois. In the three years you’ve been coming here, your symptoms honestly haven’t increased or intensified by much, if at all.”

She leaned closer, her blue eyes shining with hope and compassion. “Lois, there’s a fantastic chance that you’ll be able to manage this with almost no problem. There are several treatment options that can substantially slow or even halt the progression — ”

Lois clenched her hands in her lap. “Wait.”

Surprised, Dr. Reddy fell silent in mid-sentence.

Lois shook her head, as if trying to clear it. She stared down at her hands. “Could Clark and I — I’m sorry, I know you’re a busy woman, Kate — but could we have a few minutes ... a-alone? Please?”

Dr. Reddy nodded. “No problem. I know this is a lot to — well.” She licked her lips. “I’ll — I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

When the door closed, Lois shut her eyes.

She heard Clark draw in a shaky breath behind her.

“Lois,” he said gently, moving to her side. “I — ”

“Clark,” she interrupted, her eyes still closed, “there’s something I need you to understand.”

Clark cupped her cheek in his palm. “All right.”

Lois opened her eyes to meet Clark’s gaze, and the depth of unspoken love she saw nearly stole her next breath. And it made what she was about to say so much harder.

“This is — this is big, Clark,” she said haltingly, struggling to keep her voice steady. “It’s — I mean, this is something I’m going to have to deal with for the rest — for a long — ” She stopped to take a deep breath, shuddering breath. “Clark, I can’t ask you to ... to deal with this. With me. Like this.”

The tears fell then, and Lois sobbed silently, unable to contemplate the lonely, terrifying uncertainty that was suddenly her future.

“I can’t,” she whispered, pain coloring each syllable. “It’s so unfair — I just can’t — can’t ask you to do this, can’t ask you to w-wait around while I become some feeble, wheelchair-bound, useless — ”

But then Clark’s arms were around her and the solid warmth of his chest was against her wet cheek. Her tears soaked through his white dress shirt, pooling into small spots of moisture.

“Lois, don’t.”

She cried harder, her sobs muffled against his chest.

“I can’t do this, Clark — I can’t ask you to — ”

“Lois, stop. Please,” he interrupted, tears shining in his dark eyes. “You don’t spend eight years married to someone and then turn your back on them. Besides, I’m here because I love you — sweetheart, that means you never have to ask me to do anything.

“I’m here for you because I want to be. Because I love you so much.”

“Oh, Clark, I love you, too — you know that. But this is so much to take on and we don’t know what’s going to happen. You deserve someone who’s fully functional and — and what if — God, Clark, what if I get to the point where I can’t work? What if I can’t fulfill my duties as managing editor? What if I can’t walk or we can’t have — have — ” She couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t bear contemplating not being able to make love with her husband. A tight, invisible band had clamped around her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. “Clark, there’s just so many awful possibilities.”

And I’ll be here to see you through every moment, Clark thought determinedly.

“I love you,” he said softly, pulling back to look into her tear-filled eyes. “I love you, Lois, and that’s going to make all the difference in this situation. You’re my life, my reason for all that I do. You’ve been there for me so many times — you don’t know all the instances when you’ve ... you’ve saved me, Lois.” He swallowed hard and brushed an errant tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “So I’m not going anywhere — we’re partners in this, just like everything else.”

Lois pulled him close. “Oh, God,” she breathed. “I — Clark, I don’t know what to say. Th-thank you — you’re ... oh, Clark, you’re too — ” Her breath hitched. “I love you.”

Then Lois was quiet in his embrace for a long minute.

“Clark?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah?” He stroked her hair.

“I — I’m a little scared.”

“Me, too.”

“Actually, I’m a lot scared.”

Clark managed a grim laugh, unwilling to analyze any possibilities save one. “We’re going to beat this thing, Lois.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do,” he replied with absolute certainty. “Nothing can stand in the way of your resolve, and you know how I get when I’m determined.”

Lois gave him a small smile. “You’re right.”

“And you heard what Dr. Reddy said — there are a few different treatment options out there, and some of them can slow or even stop your symptoms from progressing. When she gets back, we’ll learn everything we can to combat this.”

“True.” Lois nodded and wiped her eyes impatiently. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There. No more crying. I hate crying.”

Clark kissed her forehead. “It’s all right, you know.”

“No. I’m ready to take this on. And win.”

Clark gave her a heart-stopping smile. “I love you so much — and I hope you know this doesn’t change anything.”

Lois returned his smile and held out her hand. “So, partners, then?” she asked.

Always. Clark folded her hand in his own. “For the rest of our lives.”

(Fin)


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Editor's notes: I included a WHAM warning because I felt it was necessary for this piece, though it wasn't a death-fic by any stretch. I hope you all understand that this particular plot device wasn't meant to demean Lois or Clark in any way; instead, it's meant to show the resilience of the incredible love they share — I hope that came across in the writing.

Also, multiple sclerosis is a disease I've unfortunately become an impromptu expert on because my mom has been living with MS for 19 years. She was diagnosed when I was four.

Everything Dr. Kate Reddy told Lois and Clark about the disease should be correct; it's gleaned from my own working knowledge of the disease and I double-checked with the National MS Society's Web site before I posted this chapter. However, there's always room for error — if I've gotten anything wrong, the mistake is entirely my own.

Again, thank you for reading — all you FoLCs have been absolutely wonderful since I began posting here at the end of December, and it's much appreciated by this newbie!


~ Crystal

"Not all those who wander are lost." — JRR Tolkien