Dick had been keeping tabs on you for a while. Granted, the so called "tabs" in question was hardly a document worth of information on you, but he continued to refer to it as so anyway. The responsibility of your strange occurrences around the city fell to him - some new kid was playing hero, whoever you were, and it was his job to gently encourage you to stop.

His team were, for lack of a better word, qualified to handle the streets. Any large threats that cropped up were too big for normal civilians to handle. Not that you seemed to be a normal civilian, but Dick needed to nip something like this in the bud. It could encourage other civilians to think they're invincible and start doing the same thing, which would land more people in danger than it needed to, sucked into a world that they didn't realise was completely out of their depth.

He hadn't told the team - Raven had been suspicious of his intentions recently, but she respected him enough not to pry. She knew it wasn't anything dangerous. Dick had kept his findings secret, digging up as much information on you as he could from what he'd seen. The way you would often jump into their battles to provide aid, but never stick around long enough to accept any form of gratitude. Granted, Dick's idea of gratitude was a long line of questioning. Maybe that's why you fled so quickly. For all intents and purposes, however, Bruce had rubbed off on him. Tailed you with a tracker for just long enough to do some snooping around in an area you seemed to frequent.

Dick had gone alone, finding you in an alley, surrounded by unconscious thugs. You were comforting an old lady, handing her back her purse, and Dick's lip quirked slightly. When you straightened up to watch the old lady scurry off, he dropped down beside you with a quiet thud.

"You're good, I'll give you that," Dick hummed, having made a point to block off your escape route. He'd make sure he got through his questioning this time. "Could work on your left hook, though. You lose your form a bit."