It had been three days, and there was still no sign of Robin anywhere, no CTV footage, no trackers online, and nothing. Nor had there been any calls for ransom for Jason Todd. There always were before. Anytime one of them was kidnapped as a civilian and had to play helpless; there was always some kind of demand. But this time, there was nothing.

He was holding a press conference. It was protocol for any out-of-costume kidnappings for the family to do these, as expected of billionaire celebrities. It had all been like a joke before, much like his Brucie Wayne persona. There was no real danger when you had trackers and years of training to back you up.

But then again, in these situations, it was never more than 24 hours before Robin or Batman or Nightwing, or even once Batgirl happened to come in for a rescue. The conferences were a cover-up to hide their secret identities and bolster their civilian personas. Over the years, it had almost become a game, seeing who had the highest ransome on their head or who could hold the best conference.

Dick had always won the latter. A video from years ago still trended on TikTok and Youtube. Dick, all of 11 years old, tears on his tiny, red face begging 'the mean old kidnappers to please give him back his dad. He'd give them all his allowance money if they did.' Alfred said they had spent hours rehearsing the bit, and Dick called it some of his best acting. On the other hand, Bruce had heard Wally West call it some of his best blackmail material.

This conference wasn't like the others, not a ploy or an act of saving face. For the first time in his years doing this, Bruce was at a loss as to the location of his ward. There had been no ransom note or phone call. The CCTV footage was nonexistent, thanks to Par Row's 'excellent' infrastructure. He was well and truly concerned.

And to top it all off, there had been two more cases of the drug. This time, both victims were omegas, and they had both have they been raped. He wanted to return to the case, but something nagged him about Jason's disappearance. Something raw and primal. Vigilante teens didn't just disappear into thin air, not even in Gotham.

He looked out into the crowd. Vicki Vale was there; of course she was. She was probably chopping at the bit to get the scoop and spin it into trashy gossip. She was usually his best weapon in keeping the Brucie Wayne persona alive and well, always eager to share what dumb thing he had done now. She probably made her mortgage every month on Brucie stories alone. He was annoyed to see her now, though. Afraid she wouldn't take this seriously.

He was surprised that Clark represented the Daily Planet instead of Cat Grant. Surprised and relieved. He hadn't called Clark, hadn't wanted to involve the League, not yet. The part of him that assumed his alpha instincts and didn't like other heroes encroaching on his territory steamed angrily. The logical part of his brain, anxious about his partner, was relieved. Clark's hearing and X-ray vision could make the search much more accessible. And for now, at least that part won out.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming," he said. "As you know, my son Jason was reported missing three days ago. We've yet to receive a call for ransom…"

"Mr. Wayne," Vicki interrupted, flipping back her hair, her tone just a shade too casual for the gravity of the situation. Bruce had to resist the urge to clench his fists. "Is it possible he just ran away? Teenagers, after all, will be teenagers, and with his background…."

Her words hung in the air, almost mocking in their simplicity. Bruce took a slow breath, fighting the impulse to snap back. He knew she was fishing for a headline, something she could spin into the latest juicy gossip. But this wasn't a game, and Jason wasn't just another rebellious teen looking for attention. This was different—Bruce could feel it in his bones.

"Jason didn't run away," Bruce replied, keeping his voice measured, though it took every ounce of his willpower. "He's a good kid, and he knows how much he means to his family. He wouldn't put us through this willingly. Something's happened, and we're doing everything possible to find him."

The doubts ran through his head again. Was Jason angry enough to run off? Had their arguments pushed him too far? The doubts gnawed at him, making him wonder if he'd missed something, some sign that Jason was reaching his breaking point. But deep down, Bruce knew this wasn't just a case of a runaway teen. Something told him that Jason was out somewhere, and Bruce had to find him before it was too late, and Bruce trusted those instincts.

Vicki didn't look convinced, but she at least had the decency to drop the subject. Her pen resumed its relentless scribbling, no doubt preparing to dissect his every word later.

Clark raised his hand and cleared his throat. "Mr. Wayne, can you give us more details? Where did you last see Jason? What was he wearing when he left home?" If Bruce were a religious man, he would thank God for Clark Kent. Asking the important questions.

Bruce did his best to look shamed-faced. "I'm afraid I was away on a business trip when he went missing. I came home as soon as my butler called to report him missing. As far as we know, he was wearing his Gotham Academy Uniform and was last seen heading to his favorite restaurant, Cosas Buenas. Jason's a growing boy who loves to eat while doing his homework, but he always comes home."

Some of the reporters laughed nervously. "The police have talked to the staff but have not seen him come by in two weeks."

Clark nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne." Clark tilted his glasses low on his face and rubbed just below his ears. He was listening for any sign of Jason. That was good. That was what Bruce needed.

Bruce cleared his throat and stared at the cameras. He forced a few 'fake' tears down his cheek. "Please," he said imploringly. "I'm asking anyone with information to come forward. I'm offering a 2 million dollar reward for anyone who can lead to the return of my son."

He looked at Vicky, "And if Miss Vale is right, Jay Lad, please come home. We love you, and we miss you. I promise you aren't in trouble."

He wiped his eyes and gave a sniffle. There's nothing like a Playboy billionaire breaking down on camera to get people to action. And that was what he wanted. Any leads, any leads at all, that would bring him any clue to where Jason was, no matter how minor. He needed them. Batman always counted on the civilians he spoke with to give him the puzzle pieces he needed to solve a case. He hoped Bruce Wayne could, too.

He looked back up at the cameras. "Please," he begged again. "If anyone out there has my son. Please don't hurt him. He's only 15. I'll pay any price. Just let him come home."