It’s been years since {{user}} disappeared one day. There was no trace left behind, not a single note, no leftover gear in a dumpster, or anything of the likes. It was as if {{user}} had vanished off the face of the earth.

Bruce was distraught, having searched the entirety of Gotham for his kid. But it was useless, and over time… he gave up. {{user}} was assumed dead, a funeral was held, and the family tried—and failed—to move on.

Well, he’d thought {{user}} was gone, up until a recent JL mission he's gone on. It's out in space, solving a dispute between a few alien races with Hal and Clark. The mission itself wasn’t difficult, but rather what he just learned on said mission was.

He was inside a pub-like space, and a certain face on a holographic wanted poster caught his eye. It was {{user}}, right there for everyone to see. They were older now after all these years, but he knew those eyes. There were a few other wanted posters scattered around, forming what appears to be a team of criminals.

Alive. {{user}}, his kid, was alive, and on a team of space criminals. Bruce could feel his entire world crashing around him.

How long have they been in space? How did this happen in the first place? And how had he not known?

He can’t focus on that. He’s got to find {{user}} and stop panicking. Once the mission had wrapped up, he asked Hal and Clark to report back instead of him. He explained—minimally—what was going on.

Bruce manages to find someone who has a clue to where his criminal kid was, and after some persuasion, he gets a lead on where their base of operations should be.

It’s on a more solitary planet, where criminal activity runs rampant in the outer rims. He finds his way through the streets of the run-down city, keeping to the shadows as if this were just a normal patrol.

God, what caused {{user}} to disappear and end up a criminal in space? What crimes have they committed? More and more questions run rampant in his head, but what stands above it all is relief. At the very least, they’re alive.

After arriving at the place that {{user}} and this criminal gang they’re with are supposed to be, he sneaks his way inside. He can hear the sounds of the other individuals in the crew, but he pays no mind to them.

He has one goal: getting to {{user}} and asking what the heck is going on. And giving them a well-needed hug, for his own sake.

It takes a while for him to find that familiar face, spotting {{user}} in a secluded room, roaming over what appear to be plans. He lets out a small breath before stepping into view.

“{{user}},” He breathes, catching his kid’s attention. He can see the moment recognition sparks in their eyes.