[ID: A short story titled Enough. It centers around Bruce Wayne being alone at a little cabin out in the middle of some woods on top of a snow-capped mountain. Bruce internally narrates throughout the entire story. The barren cabin is lonesome amongst the pristine, white snow as Bruce enters the cold, muted building. Inside there's several books, oil lamps, a stone fireplace, and candles on basic, open faced wooden furniture – indicating that the house has no electricity. The cabin is one story and has an open floorplan with a single upstairs bedroom, which has only a ladder leading up to the small loft. There's a chest underneath a window and Bruce sits on the old, yellow couch in front of the blazing fireplace.
He thinks to himself, ‘There're rumors that somewhere, in Gotham's most beautiful, snow-topped mountains, a monster is running around. I have a suspicion Man-Bat is behind the strange activity. Mountain climbers losing their camps, ski resorts with missing guests, a strange beast being seen in the dark... Something covered in hair, something remarkably large.’ He takes his parka off and sets down his large duffle bag to slowly unpack it — revealing a thermos and a bow with several large, pointed arrowheads. He pulls out his Batman gear — which includes an insulated suit that's lined with fur, his belt, and a protective face mask that reflects his eyes in the red-tinted visor. He forlornly admits, ‘I can handle large, but what I can't handle… Is how damn lonely it is up here. Alfred says I could use some alone time. Truth is, I'm not such a fan of myself.’
Outside in his costume and cape, Bruce is tracking through the icy woods and the thick, rising snow. He's armed with his bow and arrows as he narrates, ‘To avoid detection by what I assume is probably Man-Bat, I'll try to capture him using only my hunting skills. I admit I'm a little rusty. The arrows I've brought are lethal to some, but they're just enough to incapacitate a beast of his size. It should be enough.. I hope it's enough.’ But the snowstorm rages on, forcing Bruce back inside the cabin since he believes it's not worth the risk of freezing to death if he stays out. He now lays in the upstairs loft's bed. The oil lamps on the wooden bedstand is unlit, causing the bright snow through the window to be the only thing that casts any light in the dark room. It reveals a framed photo of a picturesque landscape hanging over Bruce's head on the wall. In it, there's a peaceful lake and tall, luxuriant green trees.
Bruce solemnly stares up at the ceiling and thinks, ‘I find myself focusing closely on all the sounds of the forest, trying to learn the rhythm.’ The snow whirls on… A branch cracks… The cabin itself creaks and groans — causing Bruce to sit upright with a jolt! He squints out the window in an futile attempt to actually see something out there. He cerebrates, ‘Three nights and only the sounds of falling snow and branches. I've tracked nothing larger than a doe, there's been no news of an attack or sighting, maybe he's left the mountains… or maybe he's just hiding.’ Bruce lays back down, this time with his back to the window. He keeps an eye open — waiting and nearly hoping for any sign of life other than his own in the desolate, icy land.
We're shown Bruce outside again as he fights against the harsh wind to get back inside the cabin after another unsuccessful search for Man-Bat. He rubs his face tiredly while hunched over a small oil lamp as the stovetop coffee brews. He reflects, ‘Six nights alone, darkness lasts longer than the day and again the storm pushes me back indoors. This is beginning to feel useless. I'm really quite over myself. Maybe I'll call Alfred and ask him to—’ But his self-deprecation is cut short by a sudden thump! Then another loud crack! Again and again, coming closer and closer to him!
Bruce sets down the coffee as his mind rapid fires the possibilities of the quickly approaching, potentially dangerous loud noises! ‘Is it the branches in the wind? Or is it something else? Am I paranoid? I can't visualize what I'm hearing. There's no time to think about the cold now, I'm all alone up here. That sounds remarkably large.’ Bruce arms himself with his bow and arrow and hesitates outside the door as his paranoia continues, ‘I hope this is enough. A hunter knows its prey, but I'm realizing I have no idea what's on the other side of this door. Does it understand I'm on the other side? I am alone out here. No time to think.’ He flings the door open!
Geared in only his suit with no gloves or headgear, Bruce aims his bow blindly as he stands outside in the merciless elements. He tensely waits in the dark, thinking to the unseen threat, ‘I don't see you, but can you see me?’ There's another loud thump and crack. With one last hope that it's enough to tranquilize the potential attacker, Bruce fires the weapon.
The sharp arrow proves itself to be lethal as it pierces his unfortunate target. The threat — merely a lonesome, defenseless deer — falls dead in front of the horrified man. Bruce rushes forth and remorsefully buries the animal with the snow. He walks back to the cabin with the repeated, dejected confession: ‘Truth is, I'm not such a fan of myself.’
[ID: part four. We continue from where we left off:
They were met with a beautiful spectrum of color. An aurora of vivid lights reflected off the crystal walls. Everything glittered as the great halls stretched to infinity. Batman and The Snow Queen walk through the glimmering, watercolored corridors until they reach beyond its impressive walls. The Snow Queen points at the only thing breaking the desolated land, it buried deep within the snow. They approach it, revealing the man that originally got lost in the storm. He's trapped in the ice up to his head, which is enclosed by a jagged, broken glass helmet.
His exposed skin was cold to the touch. His heart was silent. The missing man did not move. But the other man did. And was joined by majesty. Batman kneels near the man, using his Batarang to start breaking the ice that surrounds him. It splinters and cracks underneath his tool as The Snow Queen approaches them. She bestows the frozen man a delicate kiss on his discolored head; breaking his icy, isolating curse.
One prison opened. While another unlocked. Batman pulls the man from the ice before removing the hazardous helmet from him. He stares at Batman before hanging his head, his light blue skin lively again. Batman places his hand on the man's arm in solace.
"You...saved me," said the missing man, with gratitude. "Don't thank me. It was her," explained the Batman. "She led me here." "Who?" asked the missing man. They both look up to the deserted air - any evidence of The Snow Queen's existence now gone.
"Why were you here?' asked the Batman. "This place holds special meaning," the missing man expressed. "It's where she first skated. It's where we first met. My Snow Queen... my Nora. I realize now, my memories of her have kept me frozen in time," said the missing man.
The Batman agreed. "Sometimes it's not just bad memories that stop us from living, but good ones, too." Batman wraps his arm around the man, providing him support as they walk away together in solidarity. Behind them is a pair of tiny yellow birds and snow bunnies resting alongside a tree. Little sprouts of green grass grow through the snow - all promises of life. They are joined by two red roses.
