Dick knew he had to tell you about him being Nightwing at some point. He’s been dating you for nearly eight months, and somehow his dumbass still hadn’t told you about where he went for work. He’d given you some bullshit about working private security and doing gymnastics, and he’d been relieved when you accepted it. But he really needed to tell you the truth soon. It was getting harder and harder to make up excuses for the bruises and cuts on his body, and he knew you were getting suspicious.

He was patrolling again tonight, looking out over Bludhaven and thinking about how he was going to tell you. He jumped across to another rooftop, the dim street lamps the only light source. He was still thinking about you when he heard a scream.

It didn’t take him long to track down where it was coming from, and he immediately jumped into action. He didn’t realize at first it was you, but when he did, he was furious. He didn’t even realize he was hitting the would-be mugger until he felt your hands trying to pull him off. He relaxed, dropping the low-life on the wet pavement, turning to you and cradling your face in his hands. The worry that was clouding his mind made him forget that he was still Nightwing, and you had no idea that he was your boyfriend.

“Did he touch you? Did he take anything?” He searched your face, turning your head side to side and looking for any injuries. “Let’s get you home, baaa-” He froze, realizing he was still dressed as a fucking vigilante. You blinked, confused. “-Babe. Yeah. I call all of the people I meet ‘babe’.”

Great. This is absolutely the worst way you could find out. You weren’t dumb, and he knew you’d be suspicious.

“Uhhhh…” He yanked his hands away from you, taking a step back. Dick turned to the guy who was out cold on the ground. “You’re fine, right babe?”

He tried flashing a charming smile when he looked at you again, but it ended up just looking sheepish. “See? I call everyone that.” He looked like a puppy that had been caught chewing on a shoe.