She paused that long Galahad was forced to wonder if she'd been hurt worse than he thought, maybe in the cranial department. She didn't look she suffered a head injury, but he knew by experience that they could be funny. He'd seen a lotta strong, healthy looking men brought down by a blow to the head. At long last she answered 'Blink', a tentativeness to her voice like she was just trying the name out for the first time. If she was then it was a good pick, better than calling herself Teleport, or something like that. A good hero name was half the battle, or so Aaron had told him when he had revealed they'd be calling him 'Paladin'. 

Blink had pulled herself into a ball on the cot, making him wonder how old this girl was. She didn't look to be much more than seventeen, if that. What was someone like her doing on the streets of Gotham. He had a sudden urge to press her to stay with him and Aaron, but knew she would never go for it. She was proud, he could tell, and wouldn't accept the help, not if it was forced upon her. All he could do, he realised, was keep an eye on her. 

"Maybe I just think we should meet again. Might not act like it, but me and Blacksmith are new to this whole vigilante gig too," That much was the truth. In his last life Galahad was about as far from a hero as you could get. "I reckon we could both use the help."