OR ELSE. — THE WATCHER
Book Three: Marcus Versus Marcus — The Battle of the Timelines
CHAPTER SIX — SAM, NO DEAN.
The Halloween Edition — October 31, 2026
I. THE CAT WHO CHANGED HIS MIND
Halloween had arrived.
Across Strathcona, pumpkins glowed on front porches. Children dressed as monsters wandered the sidewalks, collecting candy from adults who had spent considerable money pretending not to be frightened.
Skeletons hung from balconies.
Plastic witches dangled from trees.
And somewhere, a man dressed as the Devil was arguing with his girlfriend about where they'd parked the car.
The real Devil would have found that hilarious.
But Lucky had other things on his mind.
Or rather, he was about to.
Because Ramses had decided to celebrate Halloween.
The kitten Lucky had named long ago was no longer wearing his usual coat.
Tonight, Ramses was black.
Completely black.
Not a stripe. Not a patch. Not a single misplaced hair.
Only two extraordinary emerald-green eyes remained unchanged.
He walked along the sidewalk with the confidence of a creature who had never once considered asking permission to exist.
Behind him walked a gentleman.
Tall. Well dressed. Dark coat. Polished shoes.
His face carried the perplexed expression of someone who had arrived at a funeral only to discover everyone was wearing costumes.
Yet there was a slight grin beneath the confusion.
A child dressed as a skeleton ran past him.
The gentleman stopped.
He watched the child disappear around a corner.
Then he examined a plastic skeleton hanging from a nearby tree.
"Curious."
Ramses continued walking.
"Are they mocking death," the gentleman asked, "or celebrating it?"
The cat glanced back.
"Both, apparently."
The gentleman stopped again.
"You speak."
Ramses sat down.
"You walk. Neither of us seems particularly impressed."
The gentleman considered that.
"Fair enough."
A gust of wind swept fallen leaves across the pavement.
The gentleman looked toward the sky.
Something was wrong.
He had felt it long before arriving.
The ancient boundaries between realms were shifting. Paths that should have remained separate were beginning to intersect. Memories were appearing before events. Futures were bleeding backward into their own beginnings.
And on this particular night, when the old traditions held that the boundary between worlds grew thin, the disturbance had become impossible to ignore.
The gentleman looked down at Ramses.
"You know why I'm here."
Ramses blinked.
"I know you're asking too many questions."
"Who are you?"
"Ramses."
"An old name."
"That's what the Huntress said."
"Who named you?"
"Lucky."
The gentleman's expression changed.
"Lucifer?"
"The very same."
A long silence followed.
Then the gentleman smiled.
"Well. This evening has become considerably more interesting."
Ramses stood.
"Come along, Sam."
The gentleman raised an eyebrow.
"You know my name?"
"Sam Hain. Yes."
"How?"
Ramses looked back.
"Because cats know things."
And with that, the little black creature continued down the sidewalk.
Sam Hain followed.
Somewhere above the city, a streetlight flickered.
Not because of faulty wiring.
Because something had just crossed a boundary that had existed longer than electricity.
And the boundary remembered.
---
II. JOHNNY EDWARDS WAS HAVING A PERFECTLY GOOD EVENING
Johnny Edwards sat beneath a large tree in a quiet corner of Strathcona.
He had a joint between his fingers.
A squirrel sat beside him.
Two rabbits occupied the grass nearby.
A crow watched from an overhead branch.
Johnny exhaled slowly.
"See, that's the problem with the universe."
The squirrel twitched its nose.
"Everybody wants to be in charge of the bloody thing."
A rabbit shifted.
"Exactly. Nobody wants to do the paperwork."
The crow gave a sharp call.
Johnny looked up.
"Don't start. I've had enough arguments today."
He leaned back against the tree.
It had been a strange few days.
A man from the future had arrived wearing machinery beneath his skin.
The Council had discovered that time was behaving like a drunk trying to assemble furniture.
Hugh and Melisenda had apparently been keeping secrets since before secrets existed.
And somewhere, a sentient machine was telling a delegation of ancient beings that they might be responsible for the catastrophe they were investigating.
Johnny took another drag.
"Honestly, mate," he told the squirrel, "I'm beginning to think the humans are the sensible ones."
The squirrel stared at him.
"All right. That's a stretch."
Then he noticed the cat.
A small black figure emerged from the shadows.
Emerald eyes.
Deliberate steps.
Johnny smiled.
"Well, hello, Ramses."
The cat approached.
"Evening, Johnny."
"Nice outfit."
"It's Halloween."
"Fair point."
Johnny looked past him.
A gentleman stood beneath the streetlight.
Dark coat.
Polished shoes.
A face that suggested he'd been alive long enough to be disappointed by several civilizations.
Johnny tilted his head.
"Who's your mate?"
Ramses sat.
"Sam Hain."
Johnny studied the stranger.
Something moved beneath the ordinary appearance.
Not muscles.
Not bones.
Something older.
An authority tied to crossings, endings, beginnings, and the strange territories between worlds.
Johnny raised an eyebrow.
"Right. And what brings you to our little corner of the apocalypse?"
Sam stepped forward.
"I seek an explanation."
"Get in line."
"The boundaries are failing."
"Noticed."
"Something has disturbed the passage between realms."
"Also noticed."
"I have crossed worlds that existed before your species understood fire."
Johnny nodded.
"Good for you."
Sam's smile disappeared.
"You do not understand whom you address."
Johnny looked at the squirrel.
"Here we go."
The air cooled.
Leaves rose from the ground.
The shadows beneath the tree stretched toward Sam Hain.
For an instant, the streetlights along the entire block dimmed.
The rabbits disappeared into the bushes.
The crow remained.
Johnny looked mildly irritated.
"Mate. I'm trying to enjoy a smoke."
Sam's voice deepened.
"I have watched kingdoms die. I have walked the roads between the living and the dead. I have stood where the year ends and the unseen world draws near."
Johnny carefully extinguished his joint.
"That's lovely."
The shadows climbed the tree.
Sam raised one hand.
The bark began to frost.
Johnny stood.
Slowly.
He brushed a leaf from his trousers.
Then he looked directly into Sam Hain's eyes.
Something changed.
There was no explosion.
No thunder.
No dramatic declaration.
The frost vanished.
The shadows recoiled.
And Sam Hain saw something he had not expected.
Not a human.
Not a god.
Not a demon.
Not anything he could comfortably name.
For one terrible instant, he understood that the man standing before him could fold the space around his existence like a piece of paper.
And Johnny hadn't even raised a finger.
Sam took one step backward.
"Holy fuck."
Johnny waited.
Sam lowered his hand.
"Sorry, bro."
Johnny nodded.
"Much better."
The squirrel returned.
Johnny sat back down.
"Now. Shall we try that again without redecorating the neighbourhood?"
Sam looked around.
The streetlights had returned to normal.
Children were laughing somewhere beyond the trees.
A woman walked past with a dog dressed as a pumpkin.
Nobody seemed to have noticed that a primordial confrontation had nearly rearranged the local geography.
Sam sat beside Johnny.
"I felt a disturbance."
Johnny nodded.
"Big one."
"It reaches beyond the mortal world."
"Yep."
"Beyond the familiar realms."
"Apparently."
"Even the old roads are changing."
Johnny sighed.
"Listen, mate. There's a bloke upstairs with one gold eye, one red eye, and enough machinery under his skin to make a computer shop jealous. He came from a future that may or may not exist, and now everybody's running around trying to figure out which came first, the chicken, the egg, or the bloody timeline."
Sam stared.
Johnny continued.
"And before you ask, no, I don't know what caused it."
"You?"
"Me."
"You don't know?"
"Not a fucking clue."
Sam looked genuinely troubled.
Johnny smiled.
"Welcome to the club."
He stood.
"Tell you what. You're capable of travelling beyond this realm, aren't you?"
"Of course."
"Good. I'll take you upstairs."
"Upstairs?"
"To the people who are supposed to know what's going on."
"Who?"
Johnny considered the question.
"God. His sister. A few archangels. Odin. Some very old people who don't like being questioned. And a bloke who writes everything down."
Sam stared.
Johnny grinned.
"Try not to piss anybody off."
Ramses stretched.
"Too late."
---
III. AN ORDINARY MIRACLE
Spencer had checked his bank account three times.
Then a fourth.
Not because he didn't understand the numbers.
Because he understood them perfectly.
The money was there.
His money.
Returned.
After the calls.
After the forms.
After the explanations.
After being transferred between people who all seemed to have different job titles but the same remarkable inability to answer a simple question.
It was there.
He sat at the kitchen table, staring at his phone.
Gaia watched from the doorway.
"Well?"
Spencer looked up.
"It's back."
She smiled.
"All of it?"
"Every penny."
She crossed the room.
"Then why do you look like somebody just told you the moon belongs to the government?"
"Because I'm waiting for someone to say it was a clerical error."
Gaia took the phone from his hand.
Set it facedown.
Then placed both hands on his shoulders.
"Spencer."
"Yes?"
"You won."
He looked at her.
For a moment, he couldn't answer.
Six years of fighting systems had taught him to expect another demand, another document, another delay.
He had forgotten what resolution felt like.
Gaia kissed his forehead.
"You're allowed to be happy."
He laughed quietly.
"Is there a form for that?"
"Don't."
"Supporting documentation?"
"Spencer."
"Thirty business days?"
She kissed him.
Properly this time.
When she stepped back, he was smiling.
"All right."
"All right what?"
"We're going out."
"Where?"
"Dinner."
"Somewhere nice?"
"Somewhere ridiculously nice."
She raised an eyebrow.
"How ridiculously?"
"Somewhere they bring the food to the table without asking me to submit a written explanation of why I deserve it."
Gaia burst out laughing.
"Then I know exactly the place."
---
The restaurant glowed with candlelight.
Outside, Halloween continued.
Children hurried past the windows carrying bags of candy.
A couple dressed as vampires argued over the dessert menu.
Someone wearing a skeleton mask tried unsuccessfully to convince a parking meter to accept a chocolate bar.
Inside, Spencer and Gaia shared wine, dinner, and the extraordinary luxury of having nowhere else they needed to be.
Spencer watched her across the table.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"Observing."
She smiled.
"Another important investigation?"
"Very."
"And your findings?"
He reached across the table.
Took her hand.
"Better than expected."
Gaia's expression softened.
For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded.
She had lived with secrets older than the cities around them.
Her grandmother's people had carried memories through generations that human history barely remembered.
She had spent much of her life protecting the parts of herself that others might not understand.
And then there was Spencer.
A man who had spent decades being useful to everyone except himself.
A man who had finally learned to stop.
To listen.
To love.
And when she had given him her true name, he had understood that it wasn't a possession.
It was trust.
"Happy Halloween," she whispered.
He smiled.
"Happy Halloween, sweetheart."
---
Later, they returned home.
The apartment was warm.
The city outside had quieted.
Gaia slipped off her shoes.
Spencer hung up his coat.
Neither moved toward the television.
Neither reached for a phone.
She walked toward him.
Slowly.
"Do you have any more paperwork tonight?"
"Absolutely not."
"Any calls to return?"
"No."
"Any urgent responsibilities?"
He pretended to think.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Spencer."
He smiled.
"Just one."
"And what's that?"
He drew her gently into his arms.
"Making sure you know how much I love you."
She rested her hands against his chest.
"That sounds manageable."
He kissed her.
Softly at first.
Then again, longer.
Her fingers moved through his hair.
His hand settled against the small of her back.
Outside, wind moved through the trees.
Inside, the world had become wonderfully small.
Two people.
A quiet room.
The warmth of being close.
Gaia brushed her lips against his ear.
"You know, sweetheart, we could continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable."
Spencer smiled.
"Do I need an appointment?"
She laughed.
"Only if you're planning to be late."
She took his hand.
And together they disappeared down the hallway.
For once, the universe had the decency not to interrupt.
---
IV. THE UNINVITED GUEST
The Ethos was already having a difficult evening.
Uriel stood beside a shifting diagram of the timelines.
Raphael examined the strange fluctuations surrounding Future Marcus.
Gabriel had returned from another consultation with the Marshal.
Odin watched the Council with the weary expression of a father who had attended too many meetings where nobody answered the actual question.
Hugh stood beside Melisenda.
The Keeper and the Sleeper observed from beyond the chamber's ordinary boundaries.
Michael, the Watcher, stood near the great windows.
And Lucky sat in the Chair.
He was eating something.
Nobody had asked what.
Nobody particularly wanted to know.
Death sat near the entrance, writing in his Journal.
War stood with his arms crossed.
Famine examined his scales.
Pestilence leaned against a pillar, looking bored.
The White Wolf rested beside Lucky's right hand.
The White Panther lay to his left.
Avariel, the White Dragon, watched from the shadows beyond the chamber.
The Council had assembled enough power to rearrange worlds.
And still nobody knew what the fuck was happening.
Uriel pointed toward the diagram.
"The disturbance has now crossed seventeen identifiable temporal boundaries."
Raphael frowned.
"Seventeen?"
"Since our last measurement."
"When was that?"
"Three minutes ago."
Raphael closed his eyes.
"Wonderful."
Odin looked toward Hugh.
"Your Creation appears to be developing a drinking problem."
Hugh sighed.
Melisenda smiled faintly.
"I told you not to give it free will without reading the instructions."
Lucky looked up.
"Dad never reads instructions."
Michael turned.
"Lucifer."
"What?"
"You're not helping."
Lucky gestured toward the diagram.
"Neither is that."
Before Michael could answer, the doors opened.
Johnny Edwards entered.
Behind him walked a gentleman in a dark coat.
And between them came a small black cat with emerald-green eyes.
The chamber fell silent.
Lucky looked at the cat.
"Ramses?"
The cat sat.
"Happy Halloween."
Lucky stared.
"You're black."
"Observant."
"Since when?"
"Since I decided."
Lucky considered that.
Then smiled.
"Fair enough."
Johnny stepped forward.
"Evening, everyone."
Odin looked at him.
"Johnny."
"Allfather."
"Who is your guest?"
Johnny turned.
"Funny you should ask."
The gentleman stepped into the chamber.
And the temperature changed.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
But enough that every ancient being present understood that someone had arrived who belonged to a different order of things.
Death stopped writing.
Famine's scales trembled.
The White Wolf raised his head.
Lilith, standing near the far side of the chamber, slowly turned.
Her expression became unreadable.
Then a voice emerged from the shadows.
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."
Asmodeus stepped into view.
Immaculately dressed in his characteristic old-world style, he adjusted one cuff and examined the newcomer as though someone had tracked mud across an expensive Persian rug.
He looked at Sam Hain.
Then at Johnny.
Then back at Sam.
"Whoa."
A long pause.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
The gentleman smiled.
"Hello, Asmodeus."
Asmodeus folded his arms.
"A little outside your jurisdiction, don't you think?"
"Jurisdiction?"
"Yes. Jurisdiction. Boundaries. Agreements. The sort of things that stop ancient idiots from wandering into other people's business."
Sam glanced around the chamber.
"Apparently those boundaries are no longer functioning."
Asmodeus smiled pleasantly.
"That doesn't mean you get to walk through them."
"I did not ask permission."
"Clearly. I would have remembered declining."
"I came seeking answers."
"Then take a number. We've been waiting longer."
Johnny sighed.
"Here we go again."
Sam looked directly at Asmodeus.
"You have always mistaken territory for authority."
Asmodeus stepped closer.
"And you've always mistaken a seasonal invitation for a permanent residence."
A few members of the Council exchanged glances.
Lucky stopped chewing.
"Oh, this should be good."
Michael gave him a warning look.
Lucky shrugged.
"What? They're having a theological disagreement."
Asmodeus straightened his jacket.
"You see, Sam, the difficulty with being invited into the mortal world once a year is that you begin to mistake the invitation for ownership."
Sam's smile faded.
"And the difficulty with princes of Hell is that they mistake a title for importance."
Asmodeus's expression became very still.
"Careful."
"Or what?"
"Or I shall demonstrate why certain doors remain closed."
Sam's shadow rose behind him.
Asmodeus moved first.
A burst of dark energy struck Sam across the chest.
Sam slid backward.
Stopped.
Smiled.
Then the floor beneath Asmodeus opened into a ring of blackened leaves and cold earth.
Asmodeus vanished to his knees.
He looked down at the dirt.
Then slowly raised his eyes.
"You have ruined my trousers."
Sam smiled.
"Consider it a seasonal offering."
Asmodeus erupted upward.
The two collided.
A column cracked.
One of the Council's ancient banners caught fire.
Death calmly moved his chair three feet to the left.
Pestilence sighed.
"Every bloody meeting."
Johnny leaned against the doorway.
"Told him not to piss anybody off."
Ramses sat beside him.
"You also told him you didn't know what was happening."
"Still don't."
"At least you're consistent."
Then Lucky stood.
"BOYS."
The word carried across the chamber.
The fire vanished.
The cracked column repaired itself.
Asmodeus froze.
Sam Hain stopped moving.
Lucky stepped between them.
"Behave."
Neither spoke.
Lucky looked at Asmodeus.
Then at Sam.
"Have either of you considered whose company you're in?"
He gestured around the chamber.
"Five archangels."
Michael folded his arms.
"Four Horsemen."
War nodded once.
"Death."
Death raised his pen.
"Present."
"The White Three."
The Wolf watched.
The Panther opened one eye.
Avariel shifted in the shadows.
"Odin, the Allfather."
Odin inclined his head.
"My father, Hugh."
Hugh looked thoroughly unimpressed.
"My aunt, Melisenda."
Melisenda smiled.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
"The Keeper. The Sleeper. The ancient Council. The Teacher of the Nehiyaw. Ravina. And several beings whose names I would rather not have to pronounce before dinner."
Lucky paused.
"Not to mention Lilith."
Lilith smiled.
It was not a comforting smile.
"And," Lucky continued, "Johnny Edwards."
Johnny raised a hand.
"All right, mate."
Lucky pointed toward him.
"Who, I should remind you, brought our guest here without causing a single international incident."
Johnny considered that.
"Well. Not a big one."
Lucky looked back at Sam and Asmodeus.
"And yet the two of you couldn't manage thirty seconds without trying to destroy the furniture."
Asmodeus brushed dust from his coat.
"He started it."
Sam raised an eyebrow.
"Did I?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Lucky closed his eyes.
"Dear Dad."
Hugh looked up.
"Yes, son?"
"Was I this annoying?"
Hugh considered the question.
Melisenda began laughing.
Michael looked away.
Gabriel suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.
Lucky sighed.
"Never mind."
Asmodeus straightened his tie.
"For the record, I object to being compared to a seasonal visitor."
Sam smiled.
"And I object to being compared to a demon with a tailoring obsession."
Asmodeus looked at Lucky.
"May I?"
"No."
"Just once?"
"No."
"A very small curse?"
"Asmodeus."
He sighed.
"Fine."
---
V. THE NIGHT BETWEEN WORLDS
Sam Hain stepped forward.
This time, without theatrics.
"I did not come to challenge your authority."
Asmodeus muttered something.
Lucky raised one finger.
Asmodeus fell silent.
Sam continued.
"I came because the old roads are changing."
Uriel looked up.
"What roads?"
"The passages between realms. The places where the living world touches what lies beyond it."
He looked toward the shifting diagram.
"Your timelines are not merely breaking."
Uriel frowned.
"Explain."
"They are crossing boundaries that were never part of your temporal order."
Melisenda's expression changed.
Sam noticed.
"You understand."
She said nothing.
He continued.
"On this night, the mortal world remembers that the boundaries are thin. It dresses its children as monsters. It lights lanterns. It laughs at death because laughter is easier than fear."
Death looked up.
"Usually."
Sam glanced toward him.
A faint smile.
"Yet tonight, the boundaries are thinner than they have ever been."
Michael stepped forward.
"Because of Future Marcus?"
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps?"
Sam turned toward the man seated near the centre of the chamber.
One golden eye.
One red eye.
Machinery beneath skin that remembered being human.
Future Marcus raised his head.
Sam studied him.
Then looked toward the diagram again.
"No."
Uriel stiffened.
"What?"
"You're asking the wrong question."
Odin gave a short laugh.
"That seems to be happening rather frequently."
Sam approached the diagram.
"The disturbance is not simply travelling through time."
He extended one hand.
The shifting lines changed.
For an instant, the Council saw something beyond its familiar maps.
Passages.
Thresholds.
Doors.
Thousands of them.
Some ancient.
Some forgotten.
Some belonging to worlds whose names had never been spoken in the Ethos.
And all of them trembling.
"The future is not merely arriving before the present," Sam said.
He pointed toward a door that had begun to glow.
"Something is using the disturbance to travel between worlds."
Raphael moved closer.
"The second presence."
"Possibly."
The Keeper's expression hardened.
The Sleeper opened his eyes.
Melisenda looked toward Hugh.
Hugh said nothing.
Lucky watched the glowing doorway.
"Well," he said quietly, "that's inconvenient."
Johnny scratched his chin.
"Question."
Everyone turned.
"If this thing's wandering through doors it shouldn't be using, why don't we just close them?"
Uriel shook his head.
"Because closing the wrong boundary could sever entire timelines."
Johnny nodded.
"Right."
He considered that.
"Have we tried knocking?"
Silence.
Odin began to laugh.
Then Gabriel.
Then, reluctantly, Raphael.
Lucky looked at Johnny.
"You're not helping."
Johnny shrugged.
"Neither are seventeen glowing lines and a committee."
Asmodeus looked at the diagram.
"Actually, the idiot may have a point."
Johnny turned.
"Thanks, mate."
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"Still counts."
Asmodeus approached the glowing doorway.
"Some doors are opened by force. Others by invitation."
Sam looked toward him.
"And some by remembrance."
Asmodeus nodded reluctantly.
"Exactly."
Lucky looked between them.
"Wonderful. They're agreeing. That's somehow worse."
Ramses walked forward.
His black fur reflected the strange light.
His emerald eyes fixed on the doorway.
He stopped.
The fur along his back rose.
And for the first time that evening, he hissed.
Sam Hain turned.
"What is it?"
Ramses did not answer.
He stared at the glowing threshold.
Something moved on the other side.
Not a figure.
Not yet.
A shadow.
Then a second.
Then something that resembled a hand pressed against the boundary.
Future Marcus suddenly doubled forward.
The machinery beneath his skin began moving.
Raphael rushed toward him.
"Marcus!"
The golden eye flickered.
The red eye darkened.
And a voice emerged.
Not from Future Marcus.
Not from the doorway.
From every shadow in the chamber.
"YOU OPENED IT."
The lights went out.
For one impossible instant, the Ethos disappeared.
And everyone stood somewhere else.
A street.
A sidewalk.
A Halloween night.
Children laughing.
Pumpkins glowing.
A black cat walking beneath a streetlight.
And a gentleman following him.
The same scene.
The same moment.
But something was different.
Because this time, behind Sam Hain, another figure walked.
One nobody had noticed before.
Michael turned.
The Watcher watched.
And for the first time, the thing behind the stranger looked directly back at him.
Ramses whispered:
"That's not supposed to be there."
---
Somewhere in Strathcona, Spencer and Gaia slept peacefully.
The roots beneath their building stirred.
A distant memory moved through the earth.
And for a brief moment, Gaia opened her eyes.
She listened.
Then whispered into the darkness:
"Not tonight."
The roots grew still.
Spencer stirred beside her.
"Everything okay, sweetheart?"
Gaia rested her head against his chest.
"Yes."
She closed her eyes.
"Go back to sleep."
And somewhere far beyond their little apartment, an ancient boundary held.
Not because a god commanded it.
Not because a Council voted.
But because someone who loved another person had quietly decided that this particular night belonged to them.
---
Back in the Ethos, the lights returned.
The doorway vanished.
Future Marcus lay unconscious.
Johnny stood beside him.
Sam Hain stared at the place where the threshold had been.
Asmodeus had stopped smiling.
Lilith watched Ramses.
And Lucky slowly turned toward Michael.
"Brother?"
Michael said nothing.
"Michael."
The Watcher's eyes remained fixed on the darkness.
Finally, he spoke.
"It saw me."
Nobody moved.
Lucky's expression changed.
"What did?"
Michael looked at the black cat.
Ramses looked back.
And Sam Hain, who had crossed countless boundaries between worlds, felt something he had not experienced in a very long time.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For what might happen next.
Ramses sat down.
Wrapped his tail around his paws.
And blinked those extraordinary emerald-green eyes.
"Well," he said, "happy fucking Halloween."
THE WATCHER IS WATCHING.
OR ELSE.
Brain dented, not dead.
ONELUV & PLUR. 🧡