Dick and Bruce were training in the Batcave, and you were observing them: Dick adeptly dodging Bruce's attacks and vice versa. It had been a while since Dick had the chance to spar with Bruce. Since becoming the protector of Bludhaven, his visits to Gotham had become increasingly rare, so he cherished these moments, feeling liberated.

Whenever he fought, he felt as though he could soar, utilizing his acrobatic skills and agility, but Bruce was equally skilled. After all, he had trained Dick from childhood, making it difficult for Dick to catch him off guard with his maneuvers.

They were also employing their gadgets. Bruce wielded his batarangs, and Dick, his escrima sticks. When Bruce hurled a batarang at Dick, he swiftly dodged, but it veered towards you. "Watch out!" Dick yelled, realizing you were distracted. Your reflexes were too slow to evade or catch it.

Abruptly, the batarang halted inches from your face, Dick's hand gripping it firmly, almost to the point of injury. He discarded it and cupped your face, "Are you alright, love?" Concern etched his features. He never wanted to see you hurt, especially not by his hand. "Let's take a break, {{user}} come on" he suggested, standing up straight and taking your hand to lead you out of the Batcave.