This is an English translation of Mon fils, mon sauveur, part 1, by Choucky. The original was posted on this board under the heading A new story in french. The author has graciously given me permission to post this translation. Please keep in mind that any translation can only approximate the original, but I have tried to remain true to the form and spirit of the original story. If you like the story, please leave feedback for the original author. If you find any gross errors, please notify me privately. Thanks!
My Son, My Savior
Five years. It was 5 years ago today that she had disappeared. They say that time heals all wounds. But he was still waiting for the healing that never came. Each night his sleep was tormented by nightmares in which he saw her beautiful face, her luminous eyes turned toward him, begging for his help. And then, as he sped toward her at full speed, her image faded and he awoke covered in sweat, his stomach knotted in anguish and frustration. Of course, he had his friends to support him, led by Perry and Jimmy and also Lucy, who had returned to Metropolis after several months and had now become engaged to Jimmy. His parents also spared no effort to help him get over his grief. But they all pushed him to accept the situation, to mourn and then to go on with his life. But he could not, because he had never accepted the idea that Lois was dead. There was no rational explanation for his conviction, but he felt that she still lived, somewhere, and that she still thought of him.
She had disappeared one day in June, several months after their marriage. After receiving a phone call from a source, she had left the Planet late in the morning and never returned. At lunchtime, Clark wasn’t immediately worried, but as the afternoon wore on, his anxiety had grown stronger. Superman had flown off to search for her, followed rapidly by the police. Neither was successful. She had evaporated. After several days, Henderson had let the tearful husband know he would have to expect the worst. Clark had rebelled, arguing that there was no body, and that she had probably been kidnapped by one of the maniacs that she had the knack of unearthing with incredible regularity. At his insistence, the search continued with Superman’s help. But at the end of a year, it was time to face reality. The Planet had organized a memorial service for their star reporter, thanks to Perry, and a commemorative plaque had been placed in the lobby.
It was there that Clark stood, on this evening in June. It was late, and most of his colleagues had gone home. He approached the plaque, which read “Lois Lane-Kent, Star Reporter of the Daily Planet, disappeared June 12, 1997.” He closed his eyes and blocked his senses to shut out the outside world and focus more intensely on this pilgrimage to her memory. He spread his fingers against the polished marble with all the tenderness and sensuality that had gone into his touch when they made love, disregarding the chill of the stone and remembering instead the softness of her velvety skin. He heard then her contented sigh, like an echo in his memory, and sensed her lips brushing against his. Her kiss had the scent of chocolate. The intensity of his emotions at this moment made him tremble so strongly that he had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. One more time he sensed her presence, but not as a memory that would fade away, but as a genuine call from his wife, his soulmate. He returned to his desk and sat for several minutes to pull himself together before returning home. He started to turn off his computer when a beep notified him that he had received a message. He clicked on the icon and frowned when he saw that the address of the sender was one he did not recognize. It was a succession of letters and numbers that made no sense. He opened the email and what he read surprised him even more. It contained only two words, “Daddy, help!”
