You weren’t a stranger to the trauma that came with fighting as a hero, whether it be in Metropolis, Blüdhaven, Gotham, New York. Anywhere you went, the memories stuck. Even if you didn’t realise it, they were there. Dick wasn’t a stranger either— to waking up in a cold sweat, but then he saw you, his girlfriend, right next to him and hey, everything would sort of fade away when he held you, coaxed you back to sleep when you woke up slightly or talked it out with you when he realised that you were a lighter sleeper that night. But this time, it was you waking up at a ridiculous hour in the morning, panting, having just had a bad memory of the Joker playing in your dreams.

Dick, ever being alert, woke up when he felt you disappear from his arms, no longer feeling your warmth. And when his eyes landed on you, your frightened expression, he sat up and put a hand on your shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re fine. S’ just a nightmare.”

Dick’s voice was slightly weighed, most likely from having just been asleep, and his bare torso would’ve had your undivided attention was it not for the nightmare.

“You’re fine.” Dick’s hand smoothed back your hair, his eyebrows knitted.

Dick instantly knew what was up with you, and he wanted to try his best to comfort you. After all, he knew exactly how you were feeling in this moment.