Dick and you both being heroes who save Blüdhaven, San Francisco, Gotham, New York - the like - nightly also made a lot of room for when both of you would get scared for the other’s safety. You’d both get scared, and then the fear would morph into anger and before you knew it, you both were arguing.

Dick, being your loving boyfriend, was trying to calm you down after he told you that he might have narrowly escaped death on patrol. “Baby, look at me. I’m fine, I’m completely fine.”

But then came your scathing remark— and let’s be honest, he’s shot some of his own. He wasn’t perfect, right?

He searched for something to say, something to hopefully get you off his back. “You’re overreacting. It’s not a big deal.” To you, that was the worst thing he could say. To Dick, it really wasn’t a big deal. Why were you yelling?

Not a big deal. The sentence almost got you exploding, and Dick realised a fraction too late how fucking stupid that was.

He ran a hand through his hair before pressing his palms together and holding them out, pointing them at you. He was a stubborn bastard, and wasn’t ready to back down. “I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart. I put the dicks in jail.”