Author's Note:

Hi everyone! I back from the dead with a Justice League/Batman mix oneshot! It's about Oracle/Batgirl because I watched the one season live tv series called 'Birds Of Prey' about Dinah, Helena, and Barbara. You could say that I was inspired.

DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN CRAP. OTHER THAN THE STORY WHICH MIGHT BE CRAP.


Life In A Different Perspective


After Barbara Gordon was shot in the back twice by the Joker, life just hasn't been the same.

'What the hell was that?!'

"Batgirl! Barbara?"

'Nightwing to Batman, do you copy?'

"B-Bruce... I-I can't feel my legs..."

"Just hang in there, breathe. You got shot in the lower half of your spinal cord. You probably won't be able to move."

"It's co-old..."

'Nightwing to Batman, answer me!'

"I need to move you to the Batmobile, don't move."

"I-I can't..."

'God damnit, Bruce! Answer me!'

"Hold on, Barbara, almost there."

"I'm not go-gonna make it... Am I?"

She made it out, very much alive and living, but not all intact. That faithful night, she lost the use of her most valuable limbs, therefore ending Batgirl's escapades.

They thought that the dynamic trio could do no wrong, but perhaps that had been their biggest mistake.

Thinking back on the memory was like a nightmare that she constantly relived, one that had come true.

But why dwell on what had been done? It cannot be undone.

"Twelve years with clipped wings, huh Babs?"

"Yup..."

"Do you ever miss... Flying?"

"..."

"Babs?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"You know... Flying?"

"...Hmm..."

"..."

"Sometimes, sometimes not."

"Why is that?"

"...I miss it because I miss the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the rush of danger, the feel of living. But then, sometimes I don't miss it because now, in this thing, I see life differently. I got the chance to experience life - justice - in a different perspective, a way that not every one can. Sometimes, I just can't miss it."

"Heh, when had you become so wise and... Old."

"Very funny Dickity Doo Da."

In the beginning, it hadn't been that simple, nothing was. It was a battle taking place in an unknown area, an unmarked territory, she went in blind, not knowing what to expect or what would become of her.

"Miss Barbara, please, calm down!"

"Get out! I don't want to see anyone!"

"What happened?! I heard something shatter!"

"Oh thank goodness, Master Dick, Miss Barbara had awoken and I must say, she isn't very pleased..."

"I'll handle it Alfred, get Bruce."

"Will do, Master Dick."

"Babs, stop! Stop! You'll make it worse!"

"Let to of me, Dick!"

"You're making it worse!"

"Worse than it already is?! It won't get any worse!"

"Barbara..."

"No, Dick. Don't you dare pity me. I don't need it, I don't want it. Keep it for yourself."

"Quit it you two, Barbara's condition doesn't show signs of improvement, her current... Situation, may be permanent."

"..."

"Barbara... I-I'm sorry..."

"For what?! Your not paralyzed waist down!"

"..."

"Barbara, stop."

"I am stopped Bruce... Stopped permanently."

But she thanked God that she had friends and even family who was there to help her through everything. They never left her side, and never will. Because of them, she's still here.

"Barbara? What are you doing?"

"Tim! Oh my gosh, I didn't see you there! What are you doing in here?"

"I heard something fall, are you ok?"

"Ye-yeah, I am, thanks."

"...What's that?"

"Oh, they're m-my prescription pills."

"But Dick said you didn't have any..."

"..."

"...Lemme see."

"Timothy! Give that back!"

"...Is this... *potassium chloride...?"

"..."

"Barbara!"

"Y-yes... It i-is..."

"Why?"

"Be-because I ca-can't live like-like this anymo-ore!"

"No, Barbara. We're here, we all are. We're here to help you."

"No one ca-an help me-e now..."

But her pain and suffering had paid off in a less then expected way. One that at first, had shocked quite a few heroes.

"Barbara, are you sure your ready for this?"

"Yeah, Babs, this is huge."

"Boys... Just cause I'm handicapped doesn't mean that I can't fight crime and give justice."

"But how do you plan on doing this?"

"There's no rules on how to fight crime. Well actually, there are, but you know what I mean."

"Barbara, are you positive that you won't regret this?"

"What's the meaning of life if you don't make mistakes every once in a while?"

"Ok, well Babs, if that's how you see it, then I'm down!"

"Will you continue Batgirl's legacy?"

"No, I'm no longer Batgirl but a changed person, I'm going to be the eyes behind your back, your ears that hear all, I'm going to know everything about everything. I'm going to see things you wouldn't be able to, I'm going to know what you don't know. I'm going to be your oracle."

"Oracle?"

"Oracle."

Did she have any regrets becoming Oracle? No of course not, not to this day does she think that was regrettable decision. Not even now.

••

•••

Oracle sits in her latest mobile chair prototype, the controls are attached to her spine letting her have full handless control of the chair, not to mention it was quite stylish and techy looking. But she didn't plan on the chair to be her last neuron spinal invention break through, she planed on one last shebang that would blow even herself away.

For weeks on end, she worked on this project that would make modern technology look like kindergarten toys, it took up most of her hero time, she was sure of it, but if this was successful, she could make up for it within a night on patrol. A real patrol, not the sound in Batman's or Robin's ears, or the deadly source behind the whole plan, but the ass kicker, but the person who got to feel the adrenaline of a fight rising in their throats. She was more than ready for a breathtaking flight.

This project had definitely taken its toll on her, she spent restless nights and all nighters to finish this project that may not even succeed in the end. But to her, this was worth everything, it was worth her life itself.

She continued to tinker with the unfinished object, she could feel the anxiety pumping through her veins. It was exciting and nerve racking at the same time, but all in all, she knew this was going to be great.

Barbara spent the next two weeks on the final version of her last fifty-six prototypes, this one, she knew, was going to be the one.

The first prototype had to have been the worst of them all, it had so many problems, it hurt to use it, it was large and bulky, it only lasted ten seconds. The second one hadn't been any better. Only by around the forty-fifth or so was when she was seeing real progress.

Even as she thinks about it now, the process seemed to be so excruciatingly long and painful that she had to brush the thought aside.

After a few tweaks and fixes, she finally thinks that the last prototype, the best of its class, is ready for a test run.

She smiled as she held it up in the light to inspect it.

She looks at the tall glass case, it's contents are begging, screaming at her to take them out of their transparent prison.

"You know, Babs... I remembered when Alfred tailored that suit for you"

"Yeah... I remember..."

"..."

"...Wing... Do you think that the mask still fits?"

"..."

"Dick?"

"Batgirl... Well, she... Batgirl represented something, something different then what you represent now. She... She..."

"You know Dick, I thought you were the only one who actually still believed I had a chance."

"No! No, I'm not saying that your done, I'm just saying that when you do pick up the cape and cowl, it isn't going to be the same one..."

"I don't know, Dick. Batgirl was what I lived for, my job, my passion, my dream come true. Loosing that was like loosing life..."

"Babs, I could never understand what you are going through, never. But what I do understand is that the chair changed you, and it seems for the better."

"..."

"..."

"It's been... What? Seven years now, Wing?"

"Seven years, three months, and 29 days."

"You know I always thought that when the mask came off, some of my passion would be ripped from me too."

"Were you right?"

"No. I was dead wrong. I thought that I would forget about my past and focus on the present, remembering that I hadn't quite given up on the hero industry, I still had the same job description but with different fine prints. But even though it seemed that my life was picked back up- Dick, it really wasn't."

"I- dunno... What to... Say."

"I still miss Gotham's cold crisp air, the thrill, the rush. The need never went away."

"But... What about your passion...?"

"That... Heh... That never left. My life may not be the same, but that mask is definitely plastered."

"..."

"..."

"One day, I'm going to wear that suit..."

"One day, but not today."

Today is the day.

She reaches for the cowl and pulls it off its holder. She reaches for the suit and pulls it off its stand.

Today is the day, right now.

She has the chair take her to her room where she'll prepare.

"Babs! Open the damn door!"

"Barbara."

"You open this freakin' door now, or I'll kick it down!"

"..."

"You know, Babs, Damien is serious!"

"Boys, leave."

"What?! But she's-she's!"

"Dick, just move your ass."

"Profanity, Damien."

"Yeah! Stop grabbing me! And besides, who teaches you those words, anyways!?"

"Shut up Dick, just move."

"..."

"Barbara?"

"..."

"Go away, Bruce."

"Open the door, now."

"..."

"...Happy?"

"I'm surprised you even listened to me."

"A simple 'thank you very much' would suffice ..."

"Barbara, what's going on?"

"What the hell do you think, Bruce? Look at me! I'm suck in this damn chair!"

"It's more then just that, your not telling me something."

"Of course, it's never that simple. I got shot in the back and became paralyzed from the waist down, does that not explain enough?"

"Don't act like this, this isn't you."

"Well, news flash, Bruce! This is me!"

"Barbara, don't cry..."

"..."

"..."

"Don't you understand, it's never going to be the same!"

"One day, Barbara, one day."

She wheels herself out of the room and to the dark living space, she continues out to the back balcony where the pool drops off the edge of the cliff. She feels the cool Gotham night breeze blow back her red locks as the mask protects her cheeks from the crips air. The chair continues to the edge, only ten feet from the drop.

She stands up.

There was a gust of wind as her cape bellowed behind her.

She takes her right foot forward and puts pressure down, she slowly moves forward with her shaky left foot.

Taking a deep breath, she continues to walk to the edge, the buildings of the city watched her every step.

It was now or never, the prototype would either work or kill her. She felt that she doesn't have enough time in her life to create another fifty or so models before she could finally succeed. She takes a deep breath as her foot hangs over the edge. Her hand moved toward her belt from instinct, it was like she never left.

She looked back to see her chair, the Manor, just a few moments ago, she couldn't even dream about this. She looked out to the city and let her weight slide off the edge of the non railed balcony.

She shuts her eyes and for a brief second, she lets herself feel the fall. The feeling to fly.

In half a breath, she whipped out grappling gun and shoots it to the closest building. She felt like beaming grin crawl onto her face.

This was something she was waiting for over fifteen years and it was something she wasn't willing to give up on, and all those years of work had finally given her the benefit of the doubt.

She made it out, very much alive and living, but she was still all intact.

But why dwell on what had been done, when it cannot be undone.

They never left her side and they never did.

"Did you ever miss flying?"

"Sometimes, sometimes not."

"Why was that?"

"Because I saw life differently in that chair."


*potassium chloride is what is used to deliver the death penalty to a convict