Okay! Danielle Fischer/Sparrow is a character I created in a cross over of Batman the animated series and the comics. Mostly the animated series except the Joker thing with Tim never happened. That stories not done but her general past will be explained here. Inspired by dragonprincess1988's story "a displaced red robin" She sucked from her world to young justice.

Also.. Ill put up a link to a picture of what she looks like so you can have a better image.

http:/ .com /albums /o213 /yukiochan1/ / (remove spaced)

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The night was quiet. Well as quiet as nights got in Gotham. Most civilians were taking refuge from the downpour of water from the skies. There was the slosh of water being spit out against the sidewalk from under the tires of a passing car. Far off in the distance there was a siren from a police car. There was a clang and rattle of a stray cat rummaging for food in a dark, drenched alleyway. All was peaceful..

Until from far above the building on either of the alley came a scream. From thin air a masked, caped figure came hurtling towards the ground. Her arms flailed as she tumbled head over heels through the air. Seeing the ground quickly approaching she reached out for anything, trying to "swim" her way through the air towards the building on the right side of the alley. She had seen some rusted old fire escapes she'd hoped to catch herself on. So disoriented and unprepared for the fall her hands slipped from the rusted metal of a higher escape and she fell, hitting into a lower level. A cry was pulled from her lips as she heard a pop and felt a white hot pain shoot through her left shoulder as it slammed into the metal. She continued her tumble down, slamming gracelessly into a pile of black garbage bags, sending the cat from the alley with an angry screech.

Danielle's head was pounding, her shoulder throbbed. She tried to take a deep breath, trying to quell the nauseas feeling rising up from her stomach. After several moments of the world spinning and desperately fighting to keep the contents of her stomach internal, she reached for her dislocated shoulder. With a deep breath, a quick and forceful twist and push she felt the joint fall back into proper alignment and released the breath in a hiss through gritted teeth.

With huffs of breath that she could see in the cold rain green eyes surveyed the area from behind whiteout lenses. This certainly wasn't the area she was before.. before.. well she had no clue what had happened...

She'd been on a patrol without Bruce or Tim... Well they weren't far, but far enough. She wasn't supposed to run into a veritable army of guys with ak47s! Not on her own! She'd run, taking cover when she could, praying not to get hit while she dodged bullets. She'd been running across a rooftop... next she remembers... she was falling through the sky.. far from where she'd been.. and there was no one up there shooting at her...

Good thing for her judging by the pain in her side and the torn and bleeding flesh on her left side from where she'd been grazed. With a grunt she pushed herself up, putting pressure on her side once she was. She staggered a bit, ever so glad Batman wasn't seeing her. She was certain the training was all that kept her up.. But Batman would've been on his feet immediately, with not even a wince.

Cloaking herself in the shadows, best she could with her injuries, she headed for the opening of the alley, needing to find out where she was, how she'd gotten there.

The rain only made her feels worse, weighing down her scalloped cape making it weigh all the more. In addition her soaked bangs dangled in front of her masked eyes, annoying her further. What a miserable night and it was only just beginning.

"Sparrow to Batman..." Tapping the communicator in her ear she paused halfway through her sentence. She was met with static on the other end. "Robin! Batman! Anyone!" More static. Her breathing became more labored. She had no idea why the communicator wasn't working, but the fact it wasn't meant trouble. There was no way she could scale the buildings in her condition. No one was responding to come rescue her either. Can't catch the bus to Wayne manor, not dressed like this.. looked like she had to try the streets... keep to the shadows as much as possible..

With a huff she leaned against the entrance of the alley. There was no one on the streets, no cars in sight. Made her life a little easier. Catching her breath, preparing for the long track to a safe house, she watched the streets carefully, examining details, looking for traps, possible places for an ambush. Her eye did not miss the newspaper vending machine, nor the front page. Something in it caught her eye.
Drawn forward she stared at the paper contained behind the glass.

Emerald eyes widened behind the mask. It had to be wrong. The year had to be wrong.

From across the street she heard hollering. A group of rowdy late teenagers, early twenties men caught her eye. Most of them were obviously intoxicated and it looked like none of them were up to any good if the crowbars and spray cans in their hands were any indication. She watched as one of them drew a large 'x' on a widow to a closed up clothes shop with red spray paint. The others hollered in approvement as one raised a crow bar and bashed in the window. They didn't seem to be looting. They were punks, just looking to deface property and cause general disruption to the masses..

One of the punks spotted her, elbowing another buddy in the rib as he gestured towards her with his head. "Get a load of the freak show!" The group turned on her. Though still in pain, still worn, her back straightened, her lips drew into a tight line, jaw set. They all laughed at her anyway, taking their time as they came over to her, forming a semi circle around her. "Halloweens not for a while kid! Why don't you run on home to your mommy." There were continued comments, none of which were anything she'd not heard before. Did all crime scum, no matter the level of offense, take the same 'stupid insults 101' classes? She determined the one to be saying these thing as the leader by his stance, the way the others gathered around him. She glanced up at him through her bangs, giving of an arrogant air. Her body screamed at her not to fight, her pride on the other hand...\

"Who do you think you're looking at like that you little brat!" Just as easy as always to anger. Did they turn out garbage like this from molds or something?

"I think I'm looking at a bunch of low class punks with no future." Again.. logic says don't but that smart ass streak in her couldn't resist as a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

With a growl the leader threw a punch to her head. Even in her injured state she easily avoided it, cocking her head to the side. "That all you got?" She taunted. Now enraged, the leader took several more strikes at her. Most were avoided with a little side stepping, and with the flutter of a cape she moved forward, uppercutting the man in the jaw. He stumbled back, holding his now bleeding mouth in his hand before pointing to her. "Get her!"

Immediately the 4 other men lunged in toward her. Making as little movement as possible she avoided the various blows they tried to land, nearly standing still as she weaved away from their attacks, occasionally ducking a punch or high kick. Said high kicks left them wide open.. she took the opportunities. Normally she would never go for such low blows but there were much bigger things to attend to at the moment. They were easily handled, a few well placed moves to certain pressure points.. to those that didn't leave themselves open for a world of hurt.. and they were out for a few hours.. leaving only their big bad leader, who, at the moment, was backing away towards the other side of the street. She followed.

He was backed all the way against the building, she kept coming, calm, collected. Finally freaking out he turned to run. Before he could take more than 2 steps he was tripped up by one of her lines. His face met pavement and his nose crunched, blood now dripping down to join that still falling from the corner of his mouth from the teeth she was sure she'd knocked loose. When he turned around on the ground she was standing over him.

"Why don't you take a little nap." One good hit and he was out cold.

From the distance she heard the sirens of the police cars speeding in response to alarm triggered when the rowdy bunch had smashed in the window. Turning back to the now destroyed window, she looked at the display. Reaching beyond the pointed shards of glass she snatched up a up long spring button up coat that would come down to her knees and a womans fashion backpack from the display. With a deep breath she shook off the pain and dizziness trying to overcome her. She had to get away before the cops came. She had to get to the manor.

With her newly "borrowed" outfit she began in a run for a dark alley further from the crime scene. Slipping from the sight of any passers she surveyed the area for any surveillance that could cause harm before stripping of her Sparrow uniform, grimacing and biting her lip so hard it broke the skin and filled her mouth with a coppery taste as she eased her shoulder from the tight Kevlar material. Packing all but her boots into the backpack she donned the button up coat, pulling her hair from its pigtails to fall around her shoulders in soaked strands. Her face itched where the glue from where the domino mask had irritated her skin. Slinging the pack over her shoulder, she began her long trek to the manor.

She stumbled, feet slipping from the side of the slippery road into the mud and gravel at it's side. She threw out her right arm to catch herself, falling to one knee on the embankment. Her breath was labored as she fought to raise her head, peering through the blackness creeping in at the corners of her eyes. The storm hadn't let up, not for a moment. The closer she came to the manor, the worse it got. Chest heaving, she could feel the tears of frustration prick her eyes before being washed away in the downpour.

A purple-white lighting bolt lit the sky. Up ahead, the gates, she could see the gates guarding the entrance to the road leading to Wayne manor. Just a little further. With several deep breaths she pushed forward, staggering as she tried to pick up her pace. She was nearly there.

The gates had never before seemed so tall, so foreboding to her. With her left arm cradled to her chest she leaned her full weight against her right hand gripping the bars. Even if she could scale it, it'd be suicide.. so to speak.. Batman would, of course, have the ground under surveillance. There would be traps all over, tripwires. There was only one chance.

Turning to the small box installed into the wall framing the gates she paged the house. Several moments later the monitor clicked to life showing a rather young Alfred on the other end of the closed circuit. She was taken aback by his appearance. His hair lacked the gray and his face was firmer, lacking the grandfatherly care she'd come to know and love the man for.

"May I help you, miss?"

Shaking off the shock she tried to speak, not finding her voice on first attempt, lips quivering she tried again. "I-I need to speak with Bruce Wayne"

"I'm sorry but it's very late. He is indisposed at the moment"

Panic began to rise. "Please!" She blurted out

"I'm very sorry miss. Mr. Wayne was not expecting company tonight. Perhaps if you come back tomorrow..."

Danielles' mind raced. She wasn't paying attention to his words. She had to get in! Her breath was quickening as the panic set in. Water flew from her as her head whipped around desperately. She saw the movement of Alfred moving to cancel their connection. Eyes wide she took her last shot. "Then let me see the Bat!" she spat out, wide eyed, mouth hanging open huffing out breath that clouded in the cold air before being pierced by the rain.

Alfred froze, his face faltering to a point only one of the family would recognize as shock. "Pardon..?"

Gathering her courage she lowered her voice to a pleading whisper. "I need to see the Bat... please..." Alfred remained paused for a moment more, gazing at the waterlogged preteen in front of him. The screen went black and Danielle was left standing in the rain, staring up at the manor that was her home through the black bars. Standing there for a moment she waited... prayed.

She was answered when the gates began to squeak open. With an opening barely big enough for her to squeeze through she ran through the gates, running on merely fumes of adrenaline as she began her journey up the road to the Bat HQ.

She couldn't care that Alfred had alerted Bruce to her presence, to her apparent knowledge. She cared less that she was monitored on her whole journey to the front door, watched closely on large screens by hidden eyes. All she could care about was that she'd made it, as she reached that top step to the large sturdy doors that opened not a moment after her feet touched the step.

There in the doorway. Alfred. The kind old butler, more of a grandfather to her. He was standing there, watching her. A last breath escaped her as she muttered out "Alfred" before collapsing on the step, blood dripping from her wound onto the landing by the door and mingling with the rain.