"It's fine, Grant. I don't think you have anything to worry about," I said.
"Still…" Grant Gustin's voice trailed through the phone, full of hesitation. "I don't know… I feel like I let everyone down."
I sighed.
What Grant was calling me about was how The Flash had ended up being the lowest-performing film in the DCU so far. Reviews had started strong, but the numbers dipped slightly as time passed. It was still sitting at a 75% critic score on Rotten Tomatoes and an 88% audience score, which was solid.
The box office, too, was the lowest $703 million profitable, but underwhelming by comparison, especially when stacked up against Superman or The Batman. And I understood why Grant felt the way he did. This was his first big movie. Henry Cavill, Jensen Ackles, and Alexandra Daddario were already established stars in some capacity Grant wasn't. His biggest success before this had been on television. Now he had just led a massive superhero blockbuster, and he felt like he'd let it down.
Which was very silly, since earning $700 million is nothing to balk at, but Grant kept comparing it to other DC films, not movies overall.
"You're being too hard on yourself," I told him. "We made our money back. Everyone that matters enjoyed it. DVD preorders are looking strong. It's a win, Grant."
"…Okay," Grant said after a pause.
"Now," I added with a grin, "why don't you and Hayley take a little vacation? Clear your head."
There was a faint chuckle on the other end. "Yeah. Maybe that's a good idea."
"And remember," I said, teasing, "I'm writing Justice League now. If you don't want me to kill off the Flash, do exactly as I say."
Grant laughed. "Alright, alright. I get it."
The call ended.
I dropped the phone on the desk and rubbed my forehead.
"He's taking it too hard," I muttered.
From my laptop screen, a familiar voice replied, "Yeah, seems like the trolls got to him."
I turned to see Scott Snyder's face on the screen.
"Yep," I agreed, sitting down. "That'll do it."
Scott and I were deep into our weekly Justice League brainstorming session. The movie was still two years away, but we'd started on the script a while ago. I was in L.A., and Scott was in Long Island. Every week we jumped on a call to hash out new ideas, different angles, set pieces, character arcs, anything that could make Justice League one of the best team movies, even surpassing Avengers, which was a tall order.
"So… the Hyperclan?" Scott said, picking up where we left off before Grant had called.
I rubbed my temples. "I don't know, Scott. The Hyperclan might be too early. I mean if we do them now, then what happens if we ever want to do Legion of Doom, which I want to do after this? It'll start feeling like the Justice League's whole deal is just fighting other evil teams."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's fair. I mean, it can't just be the Martians."
"Agreed," I said. "But what if we twist it a bit? Not just an alien invasion. We frame it like War of the Worlds meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers. There's something strange happening across the globe. People are disappearing. Paranoia sets in. Each hero is investigating something different in their city."
Scott listened closely, eyes narrowed with interest.
"And then," I continued, "they meet but they don't trust each other. They could even fight. Until Manhunter shows up, reveals the truth, and brings everyone together."
The concept was inspired by an episode of the Justice League animated series I remembered from my previous life. I checked if it existed here as well; it didn't. In this world, the animated series had different episodes—the White Martian story had been replaced with Starro.
Scott nodded again. "Could work. But… won't people expect something more like Avengers?"
I leaned forward. "I mean, it still is that, right? Heroes meet, don't trust each other, fight each other, then team up for the final invasion just done our way."
Scott smiled. "Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Let's put this one on the A-tier."
"Go for it," I said.
Scott leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Y'know… maybe we use the White Martians to explain why the JSA era of heroes didn't last into the modern day. We've already established that Batman was the first real hero in years, decades, even after the Golden Age."
I perked up. "Huh. I was originally going to use ARGUS or some other black-ops–type group, maybe a quiet government crackdown on metahumans. But… White Martians might just work better, yeah."
Scott nodded, satisfied. "Alright, I think that's it on my end. Got anything else?"
I shook my head. "Nah, that's a wrap for me too."
With work out of the way, Scott and I moved on to some small talk.
He grinned. "So, I hear you're going to D23."
I chuckled. "Yeah. Feige and Iger both invited me personally."
Scott laughed. "They really want you to work for them, huh?"
I shrugged, half-joking. "Hey, I won't lie, I'm intrigued by Star Wars. Maybe once I'm done with DC."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "Done? I thought you'd go down with this ship. Be in it 'til the end."
I leaned back. "Every captain has to retire sometime. I plan to step away before the ship sinks, Scott and let's hope it won't. I think I'll step away after I finish the story I set out to tell, maybe after the last Justice League movie with Darkseid. Tie up everyone's arcs. Then leave the next saga Crisis and multiverse stuff to someone else. Maybe they can use that to reboot and keep this train chugging along."
Scott smiled. "Reboot," he muttered. "Jesus." He started laughing.
I laughed with him. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, maybe after that, I'll throw my hat in the ring for Star Wars. Just to see what I can do with it."
"Well, let's just hope Disney knows what they're doing until then."
I groaned. "Don't get your hopes up, my friend."
We wrapped the call not long after. I shut the laptop, stood, walked out of my office, and dropped onto the couch in my living room.
I took out my phone and started checking texts.
Nothing from Margot.
Our last conversation had been her boarding her flight to Australia from New Zealand. She was going to visit her mother and come back a week later. But it was strange she hadn't messaged to say she'd arrived; she must have landed hours ago.
I moved on.
There were a few other messages: one from Phil, one from Carter, and one from Mom.
I opened Phil's first.
"It can't happen this year. The house we were planning to use has an interested buyer. Sorry, Big D."
I tapped out a quick response: "No worries. Let's definitely do it next year. Go all out. Bigger, crazier."
Phil and I had been planning to scare the hell out of Margot, Claire, and Lucy ever since they got us with their own prank. We'd vowed revenge. This year was supposed to be when we'd get our revenge… but things hadn't gone the way we wanted. I got too busy, and now Phil had lost the perfect location. Next year, though. Next year we'd make it happen.
I backed out and opened Carter's message he was texting about the loan I planned to take to buy a stake in the Golden State Warriors.
"Honestly, taking a loan right now is low risk for someone in your position. I still have contacts in the NBA want me to check out this deal?"
I texted back: "No need for that. Just give me the details on the loan. Come by the Midas office next week."
The next message was from the real estate agent handling the Bel-Air plot I'd bought.
"All the permits are being checked. You'll be able to start construction in about four months."
I thumbed back a quick reply:
"Perfect. Keep me updated as soon as the permits clear. I want zero delays once we break ground."
Then I opened the last one Mom.
"Did you get that toy Alice wanted?"
I laughed. "No idea where she saw it, Mom. Haven't found it yet."
She replied almost immediately. "You and Nathan have spoiled her rotten."
I smiled as I typed back: "She's my sister. That's the job. I'll be coming by next week maybe I'll take her on a little shopping spree."
"That's the problem, Danny…" she replied. I could hear the exasperation through the text.
I laughed out loud.
I had more unread messages, one from the DCU cast group chat, another from Matt, John, Lucia, and Joanna, and one from Joe Manganiello.
I was about to open them when the doorbell rang.
My brows furrowed.
Did I order anything?
No… no, I didn't.
I stood up slowly, still holding my phone, and walked to the door.
I pulled it open—
My eyes widened in surprise.
"What the—"
"Surprise," Margot said, standing in front of me with a wide smile. Behind her, two men carried her luggage through the doorway, set it down, and left.
Surprised was an understatement. She leaned in, kissed me quickly, and then strolled into the living room.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, still stunned as the door shut behind me.
"Surprising you," she said with a shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I blinked. "But what about your mom? You were supposed to be in Australia for a week."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her tone sharpened. "Where is she?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"The woman you're hiding here. So you expected me to be gone a week so you could fool around with someone else?"
"What?" I blurted again.
Margot broke into laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubled over. "Oh my God Danny, your face! I'm messing with you!"
I stared at her. "What?"
She only laughed harder.
"Okay, what's going on?"
She finally calmed down, straightening her posture. "Relax. My mom got busy, so I decided to come home. Thought I'd surprise you. Besides," she added, tilting her head, "you've got that Disney thing coming up. Didn't want you to go alone."
I nodded, though something about it didn't entirely add up. Margot never passed up a chance to go home. But I let it go if she was here, she was here.
"Anyway, we need to talk," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and looking at me with a smile, "but first I need a shower…" Her voice dropped low. "So come on." She turned toward the bedroom with a casual wave, expecting me to follow.
"I already showered," I said absentmindedly.
She stopped mid-step, turned, and gave me a look. "You're seriously saying no?"
I froze, realization dawning. "Oh… oh, f—okay. Yeah, I could shower again."
Still laughing softly, she disappeared into the bathroom. I followed, still processing everything. It had been a whirlwind five minutes, and my head was still catching up.
====
After a long shower—and some other things—I found myself on the couch with Margot, her hair still damp, her expression dead serious as she explained that Cassandra the woman who worked for me, hired as a favor to Lester, one of the execs at Stardust, and the person who had agreed to introduce me to her father, a Fox exec was a psycho, an obsessive fan.
Just a few hours ago, I'd been on the phone with Scott Snyder, talking through details on the Justice League script, expecting to maybe start writing some Elden Ring notes or get started on Percy Jackson again. But now, after Margot's surprise return, reunion sex, and this whirlwind of accusations against Cassandra… Not how I'd imagined this day going. Not at all.
Margot showed me photos on her phone apparently dug up by Haley. They were mostly of Cassandra at Percy Jackson cons: photos of me with her in the background, and some of us together taken at signings.
"What makes you think she's some crazy fan?" I asked cautiously.
"Come on, Danny. I just told you everything. Look at her hair. She's not blonde there. She changed it so she could look like me. Do you remember her being blonde when you first met her with her grandfather?"
I frowned. "That could be just—"
Margot cut me off sharply. "So you're saying after everything Julie, Haley, and I have been digging into for months after all I just laid out you don't believe me?"
I raised my hands. "I believe you. I just don't think it's that serious."
"It is," Margot shot back without hesitation.
I looked at the photos again. Cassandra was… odd, sure. A little too eager. But was she dangerous? I wasn't sure.
And then, suddenly, something clicked. A memory.
Two months before I was thrown into this world, I'd been sitting in my old apartment, a slice of pizza in one hand, a beer in the other, while a YouTube commentary video played on my laptop. The narrator was going on about how Justin Bieber's wife, Hailey Baldwin, had been a hardcore fan practically obsessed and how she'd "manifested" her way into his life. He claimed she'd gotten close, wormed her way in, and in the process destroyed whatever relationship he had left with Selena Gomez.
I remember shaking my head, muttering between bites, "Stupid Justin. What an idiot."
"Fuck," I thought as I sat there, the realization hitting me.
I'm being Justin Biebered.
Who's the idiot now? the voice of my past self whispered in the back of my mind.
"Daniel?" Margot's voice cut through, sharp and concerned.
"I… I, um…" I stammered.
"What?" she pressed, leaning in.
"I think I understand."
Margot's eyes lit up with relief. "Good. Then you can get her out of our life."
I nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll fire—" The words died in my throat. A new thought hit me, darker than the last, and scenarios began to spool out in my head.
"Fuck," I muttered, jumping up to pace.
Margot straightened, alarmed. "What is it?"
I looked back at her, feeling my pulse pound. "Okay, just… just imagine she is as crazy as you say she is. And I fire her. Now, because she's crazy, what if she decides to go scorched earth on me?"
Margot frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Come on, Mags. Look around. We're in the middle of MeToo. What if she, freshly scorned by me, the man she's obsessed with and thinks is in love with her decides to claim Daniel Adler assaulted her? Or worse?"
Margot's mouth dropped open. "Oh, fuck." Her face drained of color. "I didn't even think about that. Oh my God… that cunt might actually do it."
"Yes," I said, panic rising in my chest. "Yes, she will."
I collapsed back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. This was not how I pictured today going. Not even close.
Margot leaned forward, grabbing my wrist. I looked at her, and our eyes met. "Okay. Then it just means we have to find another way to deal with it. Right?" she asked, her voice firm.
I nodded slowly, letting out a long breath. "Yeah."
Margot sat closer, her shoulder pressed against mine, her voice soft but steady. "Remember what you said before? We were going to face all problems together."
I met her gaze. Her blue eyes were locked on me. "We'll deal with this together."
Her lips curved into a small smile.
To think hiring her would turn into something like this, I thought, bitter amusement tugging at me. What was supposed to be a harmless nepotism hire was now a possible grenade waiting to blow.
I exhaled. "We go to the Disney dinner. Let's assess the situation, see if she's actually that crazy. Then we'll know how to approach this… together."
Margot nodded, relief flickering across her face.
We sat in silence for a while.
She leaned in slightly, her tone lower. "If she does become a problem like that… we'll have to, you know…"
I frowned. "What?"
"Remove her," Margot said, a glint in her eyes.
"What the fuck, Mags?" I blurted, half horrified.
Her lips curled into a smile. "Relax, it was a joke. I thought you liked my dark humor."
"Not now," I said, running a hand over my face though a laugh slipped out anyway.
Margot's smile widened. "Worked, though, didn't it?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Okay, a bit."
We settled back into the couch, her hand resting on my chest as we stared at the city lights in front of us through the glass, plotting together.
.
.
This plot point will end in a single chapter around the 240's