Every Spring, he'd done it. Batman had a lot of… confidential documents that couldn't be seen by the public eye and had to be… disposed of. He used to just have Alfred burn them, but ever since he'd taken in Dick and Scarlet, they'd made an occasion of it. In the past, Wally and Roy had come over as well- they'd done it late, around nine or ten, so they could see the full magnificence of the bonfire as the flames stretched towards the sky.
Wally and Roy weren't here this time- given it was only two days ago that they'd been kidnapped, Bruce felt they'd understand. Dick ducked outside of the house, looking a bit antsy. Dusk was hurriedly fading to night.
"Is it almost ready?" he asked quietly. The look in the boy's eyes was far more serious than it'd been years prior.
Bruce straightened, nodding. "Almost. You don't have to come out if you don't want to…."
"I want to." Dick said seriously. "I can't… we can't just stop living, you know? That mean he wins, if we spend the rest of our lives scared…."
Bruce nodded, understanding. He placed a hand on Dick's shoulder. "I'm proud of you. I want you to know that, no matter what."
Dick gave him a wan smile, and then Scarlet ducked outside as well, looking at where the sun had finally set. "Are we going to burn it?" she asked. She too, looked for somber than usual, but considering what she'd been through, she was doing well.
Bruce simply nodded, striking a match. A moment later the pile had started to burn, and a few minutes later it was a large burning pile of flames, reaching a little taller than Bruce in height and throwing sparks into the darkness. They all watched it in silence.
Bruce nodded. "Scarlet…." There was a trash bag beside him, and he opened it, pulling out the dress she'd been in days earlier. He'd managed to get it released from the police department after discussing it with Gordon.
Scarlet looked at it warily before she took it from him. Dried crimson coated the white fabric, as well as her dried sweat, tears…. She took a breath and stepped closer to the fire, the orange light dancing off her skin as she put up a hand to shield her eyes from the heat. Another step closer, another… she was less than two feet away, and the heat was growing unbearable, but she stood anyways, staring into the flames. She was stronger than this. When she felt she'd achieved dominance over the fire, she moved, tossing the dress into the blaze and stepping back, watching each lacy sheaf of fabric catch fire and crumple, blackened, as it was demolished by the flames.
She leaned against Bruce, who put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. They were stronger than their fears- they were stronger than anyone he'd ever met, Bruce thought, as he looked over at his two children, who were watching the blaze serenely. They were stronger, had more courage than most adults he'd met. And, once again, he felt totally undeserving but blessed to be their father. They were his.