"Nuts, you don't think we broke him, do you?" Gaping, it was all Roy could do to not drop the small device all over again. They were coming. They were speaking to him. The Batman. The Robin. The Batgirl. He couldn't even wrap his head around it.
Sure, Roy had spent a couple years admiring, and figuring out how to be like, Green Arrow, Star City's home-grown crimefighter and superhero. But these were the Bats of Gotham! Not just one of the first big-name capes, but his teenage partners too - both of whom were partially responsible for Roy to make the decision and step into the world of crimefighting on his own two feet.
And they were coming to... to...
Talk to him? Work with him? Knock out, tie up and drop him off with youth services?
"Oh, boy," Roy breathed, trying to derail that train of thought. He really needed to try and focus right now.
"Are you still there, Archer?" The deep voice came again from the device in his hand. Roy started to nod, then mentally smacked himself.
"Y-yeah, I'm still h-here. That just, kinda, threw me for a loop, I guess."
"Well, if that's the case, you're already taking it better than a lot of other people." Batgirl's age was a little tricky to pin down from her voice, which sounded like it was somewhere in the transition from to teen to adult - encouraging. Although, the high-pitched snicker reminded him that Robin was definitely younger. And Roy had next to no experience dealing with kids - he could hardly stand to be around 'em.
"Listen, I'd love to stick around and chat, but I've really got to go save Green Arrow." As soon as his mind was back to the problem at hand, Roy's voice regained some of his usual confidence, and lost the stupid stuttering he got whenever nervous.
"... How accurate is your tracer?" Blinking, Roy reached for the makeshift console attached to the bottom of his quiver. When turned on, the tracker would beep louder when it was pointed in the same direction as the transmitter arrowhead, and more frequently the closer he got to it. Maybe not the most precise thing in the world, but it would get him within a few yards of the arrow without too much difficulty.
"Pretty good. I haven't got the time to start trying to transfer the signal to you, but maybe when I find those ninja's I can shoot up a flare, or-"
"Just keep this comm. unit with you and turned on. We can follow it to within a foot of your position."
Apparently, that was at the high-end for precision trackers. Roy wasn't sure whether his few yards of leeway should seem impressive or paltry by comparison.
"Okay, just- just don't slow me up or anything." Getting his feet to move was easy, though Roy couldn't help but mentally kick himself over the lame instruction. These were some of the longest-running crimefighters around - and he had seriously just told them not to slow him down?
Some days, Roy just wished he could rewind time a few seconds and stop himself from saying the really dumb things that leaked out.
