Chapter 15

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When Bruce was younger, a favorite hobby was to collect snow globes: large ones, small ones, round ones, squat or skinny. It didn't matter. And the more intricately detailed, the better. He remembers how his parents always gave him a transparent spherical orb anytime they returned from jet-setting adventures or business trips. The brilliant crystal, snowy decoration would line the shelves in Bruce's boyhood room and the ones in the library when the collection grew to impressive proportions.

What the boy enjoyed the most was shaking them up, coupled with the challenge of trying to get them all to shake at the same time (which never happened.) But it wasn't from lack of trying. Bruce would stand staring or sit on his bed and watch the flustering flurries and glitter swirl around the container in a magical dance. Honestly, it was as magical as anything a child could imagine. It was beautiful.

Eventually, the agitation of the globe would settle. The contents inside would grow still and return to the previous serene state. Bruce appreciated these spheres of delight because they seemingly reminded him of life. It's how, at times, it feels as if someone is shaking the world around you, and things are spinning in every direction, not knowing which way is up and where is down--- feeling lost. But if you just wait long enough, everything will eventually clear and straighten out.

He liked those calming thoughts. And the globes served as a physical reminder sitting on his shelves, a reminder of resilience and peace. Then his parents died, and everything changed. Bruce grew to resent the very things he collected. He would shake and shake them, getting the same result every time--- forever returning to an undisturbed condition. But the boy, himself, did not and was decidedly unsettled. Resentment grew, along with the rising confusion and turmoil inside him. So, he did what any child would do.

One after the other, Bruce took the snow globes and smashed them to bits. All the ones in his bedroom were broken. With glittering piles of water and muck making a mess on the wood floor, he turned his attention to the orbs in the library next. With purposeful intent, the young man walked inside and grasped one from the shelf. Holding it up above his head, Bruce was about to let go. Except Alfred stayed his hands.

"That wouldn't do, Master Bruce. Your mother brought that one back from Austria, especially for you. It's fine Viennese craftsmanship and would be a tragedy to waste. Don't do something you will regret," he told his young charge.

Still unconvinced, Bruce retained the globe above his head while Alred's words encouraged him, "Let it go, Master Bruce. Let it go."

The brown-haired boy wasn't sure whether Alfred was imploring him to let go of the object or let go of the hurt. Perhaps both. So, he put it back on the shelf and was enveloped in the arms of his best friend and grandfather figure, where he dispelled all the tears he'd been holding onto.

Over the years, on various trips of his own, Bruce would bring home a snow globe or two. His collection not only lined shelves in the library but could be found in different places scattered around the manor. This is why Harley's Christmas gift came as somewhat of a shock to him, a thoughtful yet surprising shock.

Outside of Batman, Bruce thought no one truly saw the man behind the mask. At least significantly enough to pay attention to quirky things like a snow globe collection. So, he couldn't believe his blue eyes when the elegant paper was unwrapped, and the giftbox lid lifted. Nestled inside was a new snowy sphere.

Except this one was very different from any of the others. This orb held a tall Batman figurine, having defeated the ever-chilly Mr. Freeze. It came with an engraved quote featured on a small bronze faceplate at the front of the base: Perseverance = Victory.

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