"Is it just me, or does it feel like Catwoman isn't telling us something?" Red Robin asked.
"What do you mean?" Robin glanced at the apartment door that Catwoman, Red Hood, and Nightwing had left through only moments ago.
"I don't know." Red Robin shrugged his shoulders. "It's just a gut feeling."
"Why would she hide something from us?" Robin scoffed. "Your gut must be corroded from the unprecedented amount of black coffee you consume."
"What I drink is none of your business! If anything, caffeine helps me focus and makes my instincts sharper."
"Tt, but your reason for excessive caffeine consumption is due to a lack of proper sleep, correct? Do you deny that insufficient sleep prompts a decline in brain performance?"
"Uhhhh..." Red Robin touched the comm in his ear. "Hey! Oracle! How's that security camera review going?"
Robin rolled his eyes. "And so, he chooses denial."
"I'm not DENYING it, but I just... wait what, Oracle, say that again?" Red Robin focused his attention on the voice speaking in his comm.
The apartment was consumed by quietness as Red Robin listened and Robin waited.
Robin patiently stood while his head filled with a rush of questions. What security cameras was Red Robin referring to? The buildings in Paris? Had Robin's family already succeeded in hacking the Parisian security cameras so that they could observe the process of akumatization and akuma attacks? He was tempted to turn on his own comm and listen to the conversion, but then he would have to risk listening to the annoying voices of Nightwing and Red Hood if they also chose to join the family's shared comm-line.
"I guess that just confirms our suspicions." Red Robin grimaced. "Thanks, Oracle, we'll keep you updated on our end. Let us know if you find anything else."
Robin did not like the sound of his brother's worried voice. "What was that about?"
Red Robin turned off his comm. "Okay... don't freak out."
"Tt, those words do not bring me a sense of calmness."
"Yeah, okay, fair enough. So... uhhh... I'm serious, don't freak out—"
"OUT WITH IT ALREADY!"
"I asked Oracle to hack into the security cameras here in Marinette's apartment building," Red Robin spoke quickly, barely wasting time to breathe. "She reviewed the footage— specifically the hallway cameras outside Marinette's door— and the security footage shows that Harley and Pamela stopped by to visit Marinette. They talked for a while. And then Marinette fainted in the doorway? So they carried her inside and shut the door? But Oracle doesn't know what happened to them because there isn't any security camera footage of anyone leaving or entering the apartment after that?"
Robin stood frozen; his body stiffer than ice as a coldness spread through his veins.
"Logically, all three of them should still be here in Marinette's apartment," Red Robin continued. "But, obviously, they aren't. There's a chance that the old cameras are broken and we're just unlucky enough that they stopped working the moment we needed them the most. I'm honestly surprised that this apartment bothered setting up security cameras. That's probably the reason why Harley and Pamela decided to live here—"
"Drake."
"Uhhh." Red Robin stopped at the sound of Robin's low voice. "Hello? We're supposed to use codenames? Remember? Robin, it's not like you to forget."
When Robin didn't respond, Red Robin stepped closer to glance at the stoic face hidden beneath Robin's mask.
His eyes were damp with unshed tears.
"O-o-oh my god," Red Robin stuttered. "Are you... crying?"
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous," Robin aggressively wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his costume and adjusted his mask. "Now is not the time for emotions. Considering Oracle's report on the security footage, this situation has become even more concerning. We must locate Marinette, Quinn, and Isley as soon as possible. I propose we follow Catwoman's suggestion and scavenge this apartment for clues."
"S-sure..." Red Robin's hand awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Uhmm, hey, I know that you and I aren't always on the best of terms—"
"No?" Robin pitched his voice with sarcastic surprise. "Really?"
Red Robin suppressed his urge to start a pointless fight with Robin. "Okay. We're never on good terms. But if you ever need someone to talk to... I just... want you to know that I'm here. Not that I'd ever want to talk to you or anything! But... I'm here."
"Yes." Robin tilted his head. "You are here. Doing absolutely nothing useful to find Marinette. Congratulations for stating the obvious."
"Why you little—"
"We've wasted enough time." Robin shoved Red Robin out of the way— harsh enough to knock him off his feet— and stomped to the other side of the room.
"ROBIN?!" Red Robin scrambled to stand back up from the floor.
"Do something useful for once, you coffee pot addict." Robin grabbed a pillow off Marinette's couch and began to search in the cracks between the cushions. "I will search this side of the living room for evidence. I suggest you begin your search efforts on the other side."
"Could have just asked politely like a normal person," Red Robin mumbled as he distanced himself from his brother, walking towards a small table in the corner of the room that was covered by scraps of fabric and a white sewing machine.
Meanwhile, Robin checked beneath every cushion on Marinette's couch. There were plenty of pink pillows and throw blankets, but no clues. He dropped to his knees and checked under the couch. Still nothing. It was not until Robin pulled the piece of furniture away from the wall that he noticed something peculiar.
What were those... THINGS?
He reached down and picked one off the floor. The creature was softer than it had appeared at first glance, a texture similar to black velvet fabric. Robin squeezed it between his fingers. Was it intended to be a cat plushie? A stuffed animal sewn by Marinette's hands? He stared at it for several more seconds.
No. He refused to believe that something so unnerving could have been created by his habibti's hands.
The cat features on the plushie's face were unsettlingly life-like. Why did its wide eye seem to stare at him?
Robin dropped the black cat behind the couch to join the pile of plushies with animal-like features. A tiny gray mouse, a fluffy white and orange fox, a rooster with—
He shook his head while pushing the couch back into place against the wall. The padding that covered the armrest sunk inwards as his hands gripped the couch harder. He believed it best to leave the pile of unnerving plushies hidden behind the couch. Afterall, Marinette must have hidden them for a reason. Perhaps the plushies were a gift from someone important and she felt obligated to keep them, but did not wish to damage her vision by viewing them every day.
"What peculiar plushies..."
"Did y-you say something?" Red Robin asked, his voice stuttering at a pitch higher than natural. One of Marinette's sketchbooks was held open in his hands.
"Nothing of importance," Robin responded as he plopped the final throw pillow back into place on the couch.
"Well," Red Robin cleared his throat, "I found something pretty freaking important."
Within seconds, Robin was standing in front of his brother. "What did you find?! Evidence? A clue to lead us to Marinette's current location?"
Red Robin wordlessly shoved the sketchbook in Robin's face.
Robin eagerly looked at the page. Not daring to blink, his wide eyes scanned the paper. But all he saw was a sketch— shaded with colored pencils— for an autumn themed dress stitched with golden van Gogh styled sunflowers clinging to the hem and a twisting ivy leaf corset clinging to the waist.
"I do not understand." Robin gave Red Robin a side-eyed glare. "While it is an exceptionally lovely dress design, why is this so important—"
Still not speaking, Red Robin jabbed his finger at the signature near the bottom corner of the page.
"MDC...?" Robin read aloud. "That stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Since she drew the design for this dress, obviously she would mark the paper with her signature. Marinette used the same signature on every sketch that she created during our time together in the Creative Arts Club on Tuesday afternoon."
"MDC stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng." Red Robin repeated in a muttering mess. "Marinette is MDC, Marinette is MDC, oh my God, Marinette is MDC—"
"Tt, what is the matter with you?" Robin snapped his fingers in front of Red Robin's dazed face. "Was it not obvious that Marinette would sign her own sketches in her own sketchbook with her own signature? Has coffee finally rotted your brain's neural connections?"
"ROBIN!" Red Robin slammed the sketchbook on top of a stack of several other sketchbooks, placed on the table between the sewing machine and a shiny red and black spotted— and overall strange looking— circular box. But Red Robin was too preoccupied with his excitement too notice the large ladybug-themed box. "MARINETTE IS MDC! Oh God, when the rest of the team hear about this—"
"So?! I do not understand! What is so shocking about a signature?"
"Oh. Right." Red Robin paused, taking a moment to step down from his excitement high. "Sorry, I forgot you're uncultured and probably don't know about Jagged Stone's mysterious personal designer who hasn't revealed their identity to the public yet."
"Jagged Stone?" Robin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Are you referring to the rock artist whose music you and the rest of the family oftentimes blast on the manor speakers to disturb the peaceful hours of the early morning? How is a musician and his personal designer related to Marinette's signature?"
"Okay, let me put this in simple words for your fashion-deprived brain to understand." Red Robin took in a slow breath. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Yes? You know her? Pretty girl. Smart girl. Beautiful girl. Talented girl. Very pretty girl—"
"I KNOW WHO MARINETTE IS YOU IMBECILE!"
"Okay. Awesome." Red Robin laid his hand on the pile of sketchbooks. "Marinette is Jagged Stone's mysterious personal designer."
"Tt... it is wonderful to know that Marinette's talents are recognized by others... but why should I consider this as important information?"
"Because," Red Robin gritted his teeth as his hand delicately patted the sketchbook pile, "MDC is one of the biggest names in the entire fashion industry! She's famous! But even I don't have the connections to secure an MDC original piece. It's almost impossible to commission her. MDC only works with clients she personally contacts or has been introduced to through one of her current clients— all very high profile people: celebrities, foreign princes, the director of Style Queen magazine!"
Robin silently stared at Red Robin as he continued to ramble on a tangent of praises about MDC's innovative vision for the future of fashion. A smile tugged at the corners of Robin's mouth. Marinette deserved every word of praise. His habibti was not just beautiful, but brilliant.
"And that is why," Red Robin suddenly grabbed Robin's shoulders, "you need to marry Marinette."
"Excuse you WHAT?!" Robin choked on a cough, surprised and confused as to how Red Robin's ramblings evolved into... this.
"If you marry Marinette, then MDC will become my sister-in-law," Red Robin explained. "And that will essentially guarantee my chances of commissioning an original MDC piece! OH MY GOD, WHAT IF I COMMISSIONED AN ENTIRE MDC CUSTOMIZED WARDROBE! I'm going to do everything in my power to make MDC my sister-in-law!"
"Stop." Robin sighed as he slapped Red Robin's hands off his shoulders. "Please refrain from plotting an elaborate matrimonial scheme. I am perfectly capable of making Marinette my wife, regardless of your involvement in the matter."
A wide grin spread across Red Robin's face. "So you'll ask her out? On a date? Tonight?"
"Of course not, idiot, not tonight." Robin's face warmed with a blush as his gaze darted around the apartment room.
"Such an important proposal requires a well-prepared plan and appropriate venue. Besides, how would I even ask Marinette such a question when she's currently MISSING?"
"Oh. Shit. I almost forgot about that little problem... WE NEED TO RESCUE MY FASHION ICON SISTER-IN-LAW—"
Ping!
Robin immediately pulled out his phone when heard the text notification sound. Was it another text from Marinette? Or a text from a family member who had located Marinette? Robin quickly unlocked his phone and opened the message. It was a text from... Jon.
—
damian. al. freaking. ghul. ice prince pretty pants. wayne. WAT DA FUDGE IS THIS????
—
Below the text was an incriminating photo of Damian and Marinette holding hands in the Gotham Academy hallway walking towards their next class.
Great.
When Robin discovered who had taken the photo and allowed Jon Clark of all people to view it... there would be consequences. But for the present, Robin decided that the best course of action would be to exit the text and leave Jon on read. Robin could deal with the headache that would accompany explaining the photo later— after he FOUND the girl in the photo.
Robin swiped his thumb and opened Marinette's three texts. He stared at the screen, rereading the words over and over and over again.
"Hey, can I see the texts Marinette sent?" Red Robin asked.
Robin turned his head, suddenly noticing that Red Robin was looking over his shoulder— rudely invading his personal space— and staring at the phone screen. "Is that not what you are currently doing?"
"You know what I mean." Red Robin raised the palm of his open hand. "Let me see your phone for a minute."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Several reasons come to mind."
"Okay. Understandable. But I'm one of the best detectives in the family. What if I noticed a clue you missed? You want to find MDC— I mean, Marinette, as soon as possible, right?"
"Tt." Robin begrudgingly placed his phone in the waiting hand. "Drop my phone and I'll dropkick you in the face. You have precisely 60 seconds."
"Wow. Thanks." Red Robin's eyes glued to the phone, memorizing the text messages. "What did I do to deserve such a gentle and generous little brother?"
"Be grateful that tonight you are receiving more of my patience than you deserve."
"Such hostility towards your own family!" Red Robin looked away from Robin's phone screen to pull out his own phone and typed something into the search engine. "Just so you know, my offer to listen to you rant about your inner turmoil still stands. I could be a decent therapist. Maybe you would stop lashing out at people with threats if you actually learned how to process your emotions. Just because you're the blood son of Batman doesn't mean you have to inherit his chronic emotional constipation."
"I have no desire to discuss my emotions with the second-to-last least trustworthy person in the family."
"Second-to-last?!" Red Robin shrieked. He nearly dropped both of phones in his hands and received a death glare from Robin.
"Your 60 seconds have passed." Robin snatched his phone back.
"Wait! I thought I was ranked at the bottom of your trustworthy family members list... who the heck stole my place?"
"Ask Red Hood about grappling hooks."
"I KNEW he was a threat to my position," grumbled Red Robin.
"I did not realize that untrustworthiness was a desirable position."
"It's not." Red Robin's gaze returned to his own phone as he resumed typing in his search. "But the position as your greatest source of annoyance? Absolutely."
"And yet you wonder why I do not wish to discuss my deepest emotions with you." Robin scowled. "You honestly wonder."
"Uhhh, okay, yeah that's a good point but—" Red Robin suddenly stopped midsentence, his jaw dropping and wide eyes absorbing whatever he was reading on the screen. Then he burst into a fit of laughter.
"Really? Do you really think this is an appropriate time for laughter?"
"H-hey," Red Robin gasped, trying to catch his breath, "Mr. Fluent-in-Arabic, did you realize that Marinette's text— ana bamoot feek— has another meaning?"
Robin crossed his arms over his chest, silently waiting for Red Robin to explain.
"While the words literally translate to I am dying for you," said Red Robin, "the all-powerful resources of the internet claim that the phrase is more commonly used to passionately express I love you to death."
Robin stared blankly.
"You had no idea, did you?" Red Robin hid his last snort of laughter behind his hand.
"I..." Robin suddenly sank to sit on the floor, pressing his blushing face against his knees.
"Robin?!"
"It did not occur to me that Marinette would use that phrase for such a way. I had never... during my time with the League of Assassins... I had never heard those words used to express affection."
"Uhhhh." Red Robin's hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He stared at Robin, unsure of how to respond to his youngest brother's uncharacteristically open behavior. "I totally get that the League wasn't the best place for the emotional health of a child. But you're not with the League anymore. You're allowed to express your emotions a-and a-a-affection."
"You are correct." Robin picked himself up off the floor. He stood taller, more confident, than he had a minute ago. "I am no longer affiliated with the League of Assassins. I am no longer a child. I must control my emotions. I cannot allow this strange feeling in my chest to distract me from our current task."
Red Robin stared at him with a blank expression. "Did nothing I just said go through your thick skull? You've got to be kidding me. I literally just said that you're allowed to feel emotions—"
"Come." Robin walked toward the apartment door as his hand gripped his katana's black handle. "I suggest we knock on neighboring apartment doors and interrogate the residents. Perhaps they noticed something unusual around the time that Quinn and Isley visited Marinette, while the security cameras failed. You go left. I will go right. If we still have not found answers after that, then you head to the lower floor while I interrogate the floor above us."
Robin quickly exited Marinette's apartment, leaving Red Robin to make his way toward the door alone.
"Is he deaf?" Red Robin mumbled to himself as he dragged a hand in front of his masked face. "Okay. Actually, this might be our fault. I'll have to talk with Jason and Dick about lowering the volume of the Jagged Stone morning wake-up playlist before we unintentionally damage Demon Spawn's hearing..."
[Ch 22 - 3,104 words]
Meanwhile in Paris...
Ladybug: "Bye bye little butterfly!"
Miss Monkey Business: "Hey, Ladybuggy, look at this!"
*Puts pigeon on her head* "Pigeon."
*Takes pigeon off* "Pigeoff."
*Puts pigeon on her head again* "Pigeon."
*Takes pigeon off again* "Pigeoff."
Ladybug: "What the..."