"Babe," You say, leaning over his shoulder. "Babeee," You whine.
"Go away, Y/N, I'm working," Dick says. You groan.
"Dick!" You moan, complaining. He finally turns around.
"What?" He says, frustrated. You beam, then frown, trying the puppy eyes.
"You never spend any time with me anymore. When's the last time we had---" You say, complaining.
"Oh. Okay. Hang on, just a few minutes and I'll be in there and---" Dick says, grinning. Suddenly, his eyes dart toward your wrist.
You pull your sleeve down, hoping he won't notice. He does.
"Babe, what's this?" He says dangerously. Tears fill your eyes and you shake your head.
"Y/N!" He says, raising his voice. He's too fast for you and grabs it. You flinch.
"Ow, babe!" You say.
"Sorry," he says. His eyes move to your wrist. He seethes in anger, his breaths getting faster. Tears fall from your cheeks. They're just kids. Brainwashed, innocent kids.
"Dick, please don't hurt them, please, it's fine, it doesn't really hurt anyway, and Dick, please don't, they're just kids," you say, lying through your teeth. Your hand flings to your mouth. He glares at you, but you know he doesn't mean it, he's just angry. And really, really pissed. He grits his teeth.
"I'm gonna kill those kids. Both of them. I'm gonna rip their heads off. I'm gonna---" He starts, clenching his fists.
"Dick!" You warn, yelling, even though it hurts. "Please. They're just kids," you beg, sobbing into his neck. He sighs.
"Okay. I promise. I promise I won't hurt them. But at least let me clean it?" He says, now giving you the puppy dog eyes. You sigh.
"Fine, but only because you won't hurt them," You say. He lifts you up and puts you back down.
"Jesus, babe, you were so light last time," Dick says, putting you back down. You smile.
"Rachel said I have to eat more," You say shyly.
"Well, stay here, I'm going to get you the medicine," Dick says, kissing you on the cheek as he pushes you down.
"Babee, I can walk." You say. "It's not like, a broken leg or anything. It's my wrist." You scoff. He looks hurt and looks down. "Hey, not that I hate it." You add, sitting down. Because that's what he does for you. It makes him feel better when you know he feels helpless about not doing anything before.
"Here, let me put this on," he says, pretending that he didn't just shrink a little bit inside.
"Babe, you know I didn't mean it, right?" You say softly. He nods. You sigh. He's still hurt. You cup his face with your hands and try to kiss him but he pulls back. Now it's your turn to feel hurt. You flinch, just a centimetre away from him.
Dick takes the dropper out of the jar and starts to apply the liquid to your wrist.
You close your eyes to try and make the pain feel better, you grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be Dick's hand. You can feel your knuckles turning white.
"Oww, fuck, Dick, that really hurts," you say. The medicine is peeling your skin. "Ow!" you exclaim, flinching.
"Sorry," Dick says. Finally, he cleans it with a cloth. "Hold still," he says, wiping it.
"Okay, now can we---" You say. He shakes his head.
"I need to clean it," he says.
"What did you just do?" You demand.
"Um, I disinfected it?" He says, looking at you like you're an idiot.
"Oh," you say. "I hate it when you're right." He smirks at you and you slap him. "Shut up," you say.
"Here. Done." He says, cleaning the wound. You hug him.
"Thanks, baby." You say.
"Okay, now we can---" He says, grabbing you and digging his hand underneath your shirt as you moan into his mouth loudly.
