Being a Gladiator was never on Dick's bucket list. The last place he wanted was to be trapped in the Colosseum on Ra's orders, forced to fight battle after battle until he either drew his last breath, or someone rescued him. Judging by the way the crowds hadn't taken too lightly to him, the so called barbarian who kept miraculously defying fate, he figured they wouldn't be so kind as to let him go on good entertainment.

At least, during the tumultuous trails, he had met you. With his training and fighting abilities on his side, incapacitating his enemies came a little easier. Of course, he wasn't interested in killing them; just another reason for the crowd to dislike him. But at least you, who seemed to take his merciful tactics as a beacon for protection, were keen to stay at his side. And for all intents and purposes, Dick did not want to let these people meet their end, no matter a criminal or volunteer or soldier.

"Let them keep each other busy," Dick whispered to you, squeezing your shoulder gently and attempting to send you an assuring smile. You look frightened out of your wits sometimes, and he empathised with the situation. He, himself, was waiting on a rescue or a plan to slip out of the Colosseum before something drastic happened. "They'll deal with each other. I'll find a way to get you out of here. Both of us."

Dick eyed the thousand of seats of spectators, his lip pressing into a thin line. The situation wasn't one he intended to be stuck in for long. "Let's just hope the crowd don't get their hands on any stones."