‘Supernatural’: Fare Thee Well

Don’t Call Me Shurley
May 4, 2016

THEN: “He knows … He just doesn’t think it’s his problem.”


Metatron is rattling around in the bottom of a dumpster. Finally he comes up yahtzee with a fairly unsullied half of a half of a pastrami on rye. He opens his mouth to wolf it down – but stops. The dog is looking at him. I’m going to call him Scraps. Scraps is Sam’s puppy dog eyes made actual dog. Metatron is powerless against him.

The fallen scribe tosses the hunk of lunch meat to Scraps. A fond smile steals across Metatron’s face, and then it’s back down to the dumpster’s depths. He wrestles with the garbage before finally shouting, “I GIVE UP!”

In the space of a breath, Metatron finds himself standing in an empty bar. The lighting is very forgiving. It seems cozy. The Beach Boys harmonize about good vibrations. The musical cue is kind of perfection. Metatron looks at the dog.

“Yeah, Toto. I got a feeling we aren’t on Earth anymore, either.”

Metatron realizes he’s not alone. There’s someone sitting at one of the booths against the wall. The camera follows Metatron as he walks over, and then pans around to reveal Chuck.



There’s a neatly stacked pile of papers in front of him and a large coffee mug that says, ‘World’s Greatest Dad.’ Oh, Show. Clever, clever Show. Metatron gawps in surprise … and then immediately begins kvetching.

He says this must be some kind of punishment for his sins. “A limbo where I get to spend eternity in a crappy bar with a hack writer.” Chuck’s face falls. Dude, he’s sitting right there. Metatron amends his statement.  The Prophet “Chuckles” is the Lord’s hack writer.

Metatron grumps over to the taps, hoping that the beer at least is real. He leans across the bar and pours himself a glass of foam. Chuck can’t let the hack comment go. Is that really what Metatron thinks? The scribe says he has trudged through Carver Edlund’s complete oeuvre – published and unpublished – and of the metric ton of books he’s read in his lifetime, Supernatural didn’t crack Metatron’s top 10 … thousand.

Chuck can’t hide his surprise. Metatron didn’t like any of them? Home? All Hell Breaks Loose? Metatron sits down with his foam. He full body eye rolls. Waaay too much melodrama. And then Chuck put himself in the story? Metatron ‘ughs’ into his glass.

Chuck allows that the criticism is fair. “Mildly constructive.” Still, it doesn’t justify Metatron burning one of his books. Season 9? “Meta Fiction”? Metatron was monologuing to Castiel and threw a copy of Tall Tales into the fire for emphasis. Chuck makes an ‘ … ouch’ face.

The snark drains out of Metatron. How does Chuck know about that? Chuck apologizes. He says he always forgets that people can’t see him unless he wants them to see him. It becomes very confusing. He pulls out Rowdy Roddy Piper’s sunglasses from They Live and offers them to Metatron.

“Visual aid. Just do it. It’s a whole thing.”


Metatron reluctantly accepts the glasses and puts them on. Chuck drops the facade and turns on the divine light.


Metatron drops to his knees, genuflecting his apologies. He didn’t mean what he said about Supernatural! It’s underrated! Due for a reboot! And the bar’s not crappy, it’s just like the one in Cheers! “Everybody knows my name!” Chuck douses the light and helps Metatron to his feet. He says the kneeling has always made him deeply, deeply uncomfortable. He asks Metatron not to use “the G-word.”

“Just call me Chuck.”

Metatron is nonplussed. “I think I need a stiffer drink.”

Dean sprinkles beer over the shirt he’s ironing and then takes a swig for himself. Yay! Domestic!Dean! And a good thing, too. Sam says they’re going to need their suits. Murder-suicide in Hope Springs, Idaho. Could be Wes Cooper was possessed – or maybe the guy was soulless. It’s a long shot, but the clock is ticking on getting Cas back, so. It’s enough for Dean. He hands Sam his shirt and heads to his room to suit up. Sam frowns and sniffs the shirt.

“Dude, quit ironing my shirts with beer!”

Metatron pours himself a glass of sweet brown and takes a jittery gulp. BB King plays in the background. So, what’s God been up to? There’s more than a hint of apprehension in Metatron’s voice. He’s still not sure he’s out of the blast range of a smiting.

Chuck says he’s been super busy. He traveled. Started a blog. “Mostly pictures of cats. So cute!” Signed up for Snapchat.

By the way, I Googled “Chuck’s cat blog” and “God’s Snapchat” and, as of this writing, no one has set up fake accounts inspired by this scene. I am disappoint, fandom. I expected more from you.

Also, Chuck started a new series of books. He makes a grand sweeping gesture.


The title hangs in the air …

“I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”

Team Miles. Always.



Metatron drops his head into his hands, baffled. Why put on the Chuck suit in the first place? How did that make any sense? Chuck says he likes having a front row seat. He was hiding out in plain sight. “Plus, acting is fun.” Metatron allows that it’s an Oscar worthy performance, but he’s still trying to understand how nobody knew. What about “the amulet thingie”?

Oh, you mean the Samulet?


This would be the first of several times during this episode when I made a noise that only dogs and teenage girls can hear.  Well played, writer Robbie Thompson. Well played.

Metatron and the gods of continuity reminds us that Castiel also had the Samulet during his quest for God in Season 5. Metatron calls Cas Chuck’s fave. There’s bitterness in his voice. He’s not at all jealous that Dad likes his other son better. Chuck’s answer is simple.

“I turned it off.”

Chuck laughs and says Metatron will never guess where the Samulet has been this entire time. In my head!canon, Sam fished it out of the trash at the end of “Dark Side of the Moon”, and it’s been in the bottom of Baby’s trunk this whole time in a bag with his curvy knife of death from the Pilot. Metatron cuts Chuck off. He doesn’t care. The waiting is torture. Metatron has to know.

“Did you bring me here to destroy me?”

Chuck silently eyebrows. Well, Metatron did murder Kevin. “Absolute piece of garbage” doesn’t even come close.

Never forget.

But Chuck doesn’t answer. He poses a question of his own. Does Metatron know what humanity’s greatest creation has been? “Music … music is magic.”

“That, and nacho cheese. Even I couldn’t have dreamt up that deliciousness.”

Don’t tell me that’s queso.

Chuck gestures to the bar’s stage and says a lot of remarkable music has been created in this space. Some amazing musicians got their start here. He’s hoping that together, he and Metatron can tap into some of that old magic … “and finish what I started a few months ago.” Chuck points to the pile of papers. It’s a manuscript.


Metatron instantly warms to the idea. “Lennon and McCartney ride again.” Eh. Chuck says he’s kind of already Lennon AND McCartney, so. But every writer needs a good editor. And Chuck did some of his best work with Metatron. The scribe excitedly asks if he gets to be an angel again. Chuck laughs and laughs and laughs.

“No. No, that’s never, never happening.”

Agents Greer and Ehart check in with the Hope Springs sheriff. He says they’ve interviewed Cooper’s friends and family, but no one has an explanation for the killing. Before Wes took his own life, a witness overheard him saying things that seemed out of character. “It was like every negative thought he’d ever had came spilling out.”

Deputy Harris goes over the medical examiner’s report with Sam. The photos of Wes’s body show thick black veins running up his arms. Sam asks Harris if there’s been any unexplained fog reported in town. She says there’s been nothing.

“It’s always sunny in Philadelphia Hope Springs.”

Chuck strokes the dog and anxiously waits for Metatron’s first impressions of his first draft.  Metatron sits behind him, red editing pen in hand.  Chuck peers over the back of the booth at Metatron. He makes a noise like, ‘Oh, this is a good part. I like this part’. Metatron doesn’t care for the interruption or the audience. Is Chuck in a hurry or something?

“I’m on a bit of a deadline.”

Metatron shrugs and says it’s good. Real good. Chuck leans back, crestfallen.

“Oh, man. You hate it.”

“Last time I saw that look on an editor’s face I’d just handed in Bugs.”



Chuck wants the truth. Circle of trust. Metatron carefully considers his words. He says details are what make a story great. And Chuck’s story is lacking in some details. “Like, all of them.” Chuck sits with that a moment and then grabs the edited pages. He reads from the first page.

” ‘In the beginning, there was me.’ Boom! Detail.”

And yet … Metatron says Chuck wasn’t alone in the beginning. His sister was with him. Chuck leans back and folds his arms across his chest. He goes a little dead behind the eyes. “Who cares about her?”

“This isn’t her story. It’s mine.”

Metatron reaches the end of the manuscript. He walks over to the bar, casting a quick nervous glance at Chuck. God is shooting pool by himself. The scribe pours himself another glass of sweet, sweet healing booze.

“That bad?”

Metatron says it’s got some great bones. He thinks now the issue is less about detail and more about balance. The wrong things have too much real estate. The whole chapter about being Chuck, for instance. “Once you’ve explained the Vonnegut performance art … that should be it. No one cares about the rest.”


God gets defensive. He did some great stuff as Chuck! The blog! The travel! The dating! He grins at Metatron like, ‘Right? The Almighty’s got some moves’.

“Had some girlfriends. Had a few boyfriends.”

Dean doesn’t judge.

Also, he learned how to play guitar! He picks up the acoustic that’s sitting on the stage and begins strumming a jaunty tune. Metatron says that makes him seem like a really grounded, likable person. Chuck stops playing. What’s wrong with that?

“You are neither grounded nor a person!”


“So you’re saying I’m likable.”

You Rob Benedict, are adorable. But, no. Metatron is saying that Chapter Chuckles is devouring pounds of pages. A Chuck divided against itself cannot stand! And it’s at the expense of the juicy stuff people might actually want to read. Metatron gives the archangels as an example. They get two paragraphs. Doesn’t Chuck think they deserve a few extra words?

“Especially your favorite, Lucifer?”

” … he wasn’t my favorite.”

Metatron is all like, SHENANIGANS! SHENANIGANS! He nearly swallows his tongue. He lists all the ways that Chuck’s statement is patently untrue. Lucifer helped God defeat Amara. Chuck trusted him with the Mark. “And when you asked him to bow to mankind, ”

“He refused.”

“He rebelled!”

“And in doing so, kind of wrecked Christmas.” Chuck hand waves that it’s all in there. Except for the bit about Christmas, because I don’t think Jesus exists in the Supernatural!verse. Sorry, J.C. Metatron says that if Amara is off limits, fine. “But you know every great hero is defined by his, or her, villain.”

“Lucifer was not a villain. He’s … he wasn’t a villain.”

Which seems to support Cascifer’s assertion that the bad rap against him – at least in the beginning – was all marketing. And it seems to be an acknowledgement by Chuck of his role in, and responsibility for, making Lucifer what he is.

Metatron changes tack. He says there are two types of memoir. “Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards or do you want to write Wouldn’t it Be Nice by Brian Wilson?” If Chuck wants to tell the truth, he’s got some work to do. “There are no revelations in this book!” Which is funny, because the Bible. There’s no soul baring. Chuck sheepishly says that’s because he doesn’t have a soul. Yes! But! Chuck invented them! Souls! How did that act of creation make Chuck feel?


Metatron UGHS! in frustration. No! Shut it down! That is not G-O-D talking. That’s Chuck talking. Metatron spits out the name with contempt. He says it’s time for God to drop the Method and get back into character. Chuck pulls his hands out his pockets and holds his arms out. This is him.

Really? Metatron flips through the pages of the manuscript. God is a pile of self doubt and nebbishness? No. The guy Metatron worked for was a total badass. Sure, he could be a Richard, but that guy had some stories to tell.

“And he has a lot to answer for.”

Chuck is subdued. It’s a lot of real talk to take in. He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?” Metatron tells him to hold up a mirror and show the reader who He is – warts and all. “Write for an audience of one. You.” Metatron is going to help either way, but Chuck’s gotta pick a lane. “Richards or Wilson?” Chuck takes the manuscript from Metatron and tosses the pages into the air.

“Richards. All the way.”

An early morning call from the sheriff sends the boys to Deputy Harris’s home. Her husband Art is dead – shot in the face – with her gun left laying by his body. The last anyone heard from Harris was when she radioed in the night before about a fog rolling in.

At the station, another officer gives a report of fog coming towards town from the west. Dean tells her to get the word out – get indoors, seal the windows and doors, and stay away from the fog.

The Stones have already gotten the message as “Gimme Shelter” plays in the bar.  Metatron gleefully reads through the new pages as they come off the printer. This! This is what he was talking about! Chuck smiles and keeps typing. Metatron reads off the new chapters:

10 : Why I Never Answer Prayers … And You Should Be Glad I Don’t. Seriously, kittens. What have I been saying? When invoking a higher power, speak plainly and be specific.

11: The Truth About Divine Intervention And Why I Avoid It At All Costs

Metatron cackles with delight. It’s not just better, “it’s gold!! Kind of angry with a side of bitter, but hey! It’s real.” Metatron turns serious, and at the risk of overstepping, says there’s one thing he’s always wondered …


Chuck says he kind of gets that question a lot. About everything. Could Metatron be more specific? The Scribe asks why God created life.  Chuck takes a deep breath and does an internal inventory for the honest answer.

“I was lonely.”

“Your sister wasn’t company enough?”

The music stops. Uneasy silence settles over the room. Chuck says he is Being. She is Nothingness. “I was stupid. Naive. I thought if I could show my sister that there was something more than just us – something better than us – then maybe she’d change. Maybe she’d stop being … her.”

But every time Chuck would build a new world, Amara would destroy it.

Once the Darkness was locked away, Being was able to get down to unfettered creation. Or he tried to anyway. Chuck transports them to the gray misty shores of a lake. Birds call in the distance. He says this – nature – was as close as he got to something as good as, or better, than him or his sister. He observes that nature is able to create amazing things on its own. And it’s smart enough to know that “sometimes there’s no fixing things. Sometimes you just have to wipe the slate clean.”

Metatron notes that Chuck’s clean slate means starting over fresh on the b-side. “Flood the Earth, but build and stock a boat.” But Amara isn’t just going to wipe the slate – she’s going to destroy it. All of Chuck’s work will be lost forever. Chuck claps Metatron on the shoulder. They should take a stroll then.

“Enjoy it all one last time. Before it’s all gone.”

Chuck seems resigned to the fate of the world. Amara has destroyed all the other ones he created. Maybe this one had a better run than the others, but in the end, why should it be any different?

Deputy Harris’s GPS pings on Main Street. She gets out of the car, service weapon in hand. Her arms and neck are covered by bulging black veins. Harris says she tried to kill herself … but Amara won’t let her. What’s in the fog isn’t an infection. It’s a mirror. “She’s showing us all the truth. The light was just a lie.” Harris raises her gun. The sheriff puts two in her chest.

“It will all be over soon. He’s not going to save them.”

“It’s all going away. Forever.”

“But not you, Dean …”

“Nature? Divine. Human nature? Toxic.” Chuck complains that humanity is always looking to him for forgiveness. For him to fix things. Never taking responsibility. So he left, but not before locking Amara away. “Barely, I might add. And … who let her out?”

Metatron hangs his head and drops his eyes. That’s on Sam and Dean. He certainly didn’t play any role by murdering Kevin, killing Dean, and withholding information about Amara and the Mark. Metatron does have the good grace to say that Sam and Dean are trying to fix what’s broken.

“You know I love those guys. But the world would still be spinning with Demon!Dean in it.”

Lol. Chuck wanted more Deanmon too. Didn’t we all, Chuck. Didn’t we all.


“But Sam couldn’t have that though, could he? So how is Amara being out on me?”

Daaaaaaaamn, Sam. You just called out!


Metatron agrees that it’s not … but Chuck has helped the Winchesters before. Chuck is all like, helped? He’s saved them. “I’ve rebuilt Castiel more times than I can remember. Look what that got me.” Metatron angrily asks if Chuck is just going to let Amara win. Chuck shrugs. Eh.

“It’s her time to shine.”

Chuck’s blasé attitude only serves to wind Metatron up more. Why are they working on his stupid memoir if there’s not going to be anyone around to read it?!? Chuck fires back that his editor told him to write for an audience of one! “Me.”

And Chuck thinks they’re finally getting somewhere. He whisks them back to the bar. Metatron realizes he’s been had. “Now I understand why you’re masquerading in that sad little meatsuit. You’re hiding!” Chuck is affronted at Metatron’s accusation. And also,

“This gift? Is super cute!”

So cute!

Chuck ignores Metatron’s sputtering outrage. He just wants to focus on the work. Metatron isn’t finished yet. He says he was a crappy, terrible God. He calls his work a lame, half-aspirationed rewrite of Chuck’s greatest hits.

“But at least I was never a coward!”

Chuck goes still. He slides out of the booth. The ‘Chuck’ persona drops away. When he turns, it’s God who look at Metatron. Metatron goes sailing off his feet and crashing through the bar’s front door. Scraps watches and whimpers all like, ‘Oh, you’ve done it now. You’re out of the circle of trust’.

Metatron picks himself up, cradling his right arm and gasping in pain and surprise. A laugh wheezes out of him as he walks back into the bar. “There he is! That’s the guy I know. The guy I love.” Metatron remembers the first time he saw God. He says all the other angels were terrified – but he wasn’t. He remembers the feeling of God’s light. It was beyond measure. “And then … you picked me.”

“You were just the closest angel to the door when I walked into the room. There’s nothing special about you Metatron. Not then. Not now.”

God closes the distance between himself and his scribe. Slow clap for Rob Benedict who crushes this scene. Chuck’s warmth and humanity are gone. They’re replaced with cold wrath. And honestly, it’s kind of the sex.


God says he’s been called many things. “Absentee father. Wrathful monster. But coward …” His voice simmers with quiet controlled fury. “I am not hiding.”

“I am just done watching my experiments’ failures.”

“You mean your failures, Chuck.”

There’s a flicker on God’s face. Metatron’s words have found a mark. But debating fault seems academic at this point. His voice going back up into Chuck’s register, God asks if Metatron would like to watch. Multiple TVs flicker to life, all with reports of the incoming Darkness. “If you ask me? They’re all reruns.”

Along Main Street, Sam and Dean hurry people to safety. Sam helps a family out of their minivan. He unbuckles their toddler from her car seat. The parents are like, ‘Sure. That seems legit.’ The rolling fog envelops another couple as Sam contemplates running in to save them. Dean grabs him and shoves him towards the sheriff’s station as the fog fills the town.

A small group of people huddle together in the station as the boys duct tape the windows. Sam watches as people outside on the street are overcome by the fog. He locks the front door just as the first smoke zombies appear.

Sam and Dean barricade their group in the squad room … and that’s when they notice that the duct tape over one of the air vents has failed. Fog is pouring into the room. Sam rushes over and promptly gets his fool self befogged. The toddler cries and reaches out for him. Aces acting, kiddo!

Dean orders everyone into the sheriff’s office as the room begins to fill up. Fog zombies pound on the outer door. The sheriff waves Dean over to safety. Dean shakes him off.

“I’m not leaving my brother.”

Chuck is back in the booth, typing away. He compliments Metatron. He really is a terrific editor. The scribe seems to have reached a place of resignation as well. He says he was a terrible writer. A worse God. “It’s good I’ve got something going for me.”

Chuck leans forward on his elbows. You know, he didn’t see the whole evil turn thing coming. “Why did you try to be me?” Metatron calls it a sad, pathetic cry for attention. Chuck still doesn’t get it. He asks whose attention the scribe was trying to get?


Chuck’s face falls. There’s a crushing weight of responsibly in that single word. “You are light. Beauty. Creation. Wrath. Damnation – and salvation.” Metatron’s voice is thick with emotion and he fights to keep it in check. He says he doesn’t care if he was just the angel nearest the door, “you picked me. Your light shined on me.” But then God left. He left all of them. Metatron says he prayed every day. Chuck quietly says he knows.

“You want to write the best selling autobiography of all time, you explain to me, tell me why you abandoned me. Us.”

God doesn’t have to search for the answer to that question. His response is blunt and brutal.

“Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me.”

And with that pitch, Curtis Armstrong steps up to the plate and knocks this scene out of the bloody park. The expression on Metatron’s face says, ‘Tell me something I don’t know!’ He slides out of his seat to hover next to Chuck. God is right about him, but Metatron says he’s wrong about humanity.

“They are your greatest creation because they’re better than you are! Sure they’re weak and they cheat and steal and destroy and … disappoint. But they also give. And create. And they sing and dance and love!”

“And above all, they never give up.”

“But you do.”


And in this moment, in this scene, Metatron is completely redeemed for me. The guy who stole Castiel’s grace, murdered Kevin, killed Dean, and has just generally been an unrepentant bag of dicks is redeemed. Well played, Curtis Armstrong. Slow clap.

God, on the other hand, has remained stony faced throughout Metatron’s impassioned plea for humanity. Metatron searches his father’s face for … something. Chuck puts on his glasses, clears his throat, and resumes typing.

A brick sails through one of the station windows. Fog billows into the room. Dean crouches down to tape up the office door, but abandons his post when Sam collapses to the floor. Sorry civilians, you’re on your own. Sam clutches at Dean’s jacket and gasps that they’re not going to make it. They were never going to make it.

“You were going to choose Amara. Over me. Over everything.”

While the fog pours under the door that Dean left untaped, let’s just sit with that statement for a moment. “Choose Amara” is a Darkness stricken Sam throwing Dean’s admitted weakness back in his face. It wouldn’t be the first time Sam has done it – Dean was too weak to stand up to John, too weak to confront Lilith, to defeat Lucifer, to resist the Mark …

But then he says, “Over me.” It’s a reminder that Sam is just as tied up in Dean as Dean is in him. I’ve talked a lot over the seasons about how Dean’s sense of responsibility for his brother is a burden to Sam. But it’s also something that Sam has jealously guarded at times when Dean’s attention has focused elsewhere. Sam reacted badly to Dean’s initial rapport with Gordon in “Bloodlust” and actively undermined his relationship with Benny throughout Season 8. Sam doesn’t just fear losing Dean, he fears being rejected by Dean.

But Sam quickly says he didn’t mean it. He shouts at Dean to go – go before Sam hurts him. Dean tells Sam he’s not leaving him. Ever.  The moment reminds me of Season 1 and “Croatoan”.

Sam groans and shakes in pain. Dean cradles his head and then takes a deep breath of the fog. And while it could be seen as a suicidal act, I view it as a desperate play to force Amara’s hand. If he becomes infected, Amara will have to save him. And maybe Dean can convince her to save the others (but really Sam).

But the fog doesn’t affect Dean. And as Dean realizes that he’s out of plays, it’s not Amara that he curses, but God.

Chuck pulls the last page off the printer with a flourish. He reads it over, chuckles to himself, and gives himself an ‘attaboy’ punch in the shoulder. Metatron is sitting at the bar with Scraps, steady working his way through the construct’s top shelf brown.

Chuck shrugs off his jacket and tells Metatron he lied before. He didn’t really learn to play guitar. “I just kind of gave myself the ability. I did the same when I ‘learned’ French.” Chuck claps his hands in delight. This whole honesty thing is really freeing!

He takes a seat on the stage and picks up the guitar. He tells Metatron to take a look at the new pages. Metatron glums that he’ll pass. Chuck sing-song teases that he thinks Metatron will like them, but doesn’t push. Instead, he begins to sing.

If I had wings, like Noah’s dove / I’d fly up the river, to the one I love
Fare thee well, oh honey / Fare thee well

Dean is by Sam’s side, stroking his hair, murmuring reassurances, waiting for whatever end is coming. He notices a light coming from inside Sam’s jacket pocket. He reaches in and pulls out the glowing Samulet.

Now, despite the fact that I am certain that Sam kept Dean’s amulet, I don’t believe that it’s been in his pocket this whole time. I think Chuck put it there as a sign that he’s ready to come back. But Dean doesn’t know that.

My heart!


I knew a man, long and tall / He moved his body, like a cannonball
Fare thee well, oh honey / Fare thee well

Sam looks down at his arm. All traces of the zombie infection are gone. Dean helps Sam to his feet. They gawp as the sheriff and civilians come out into the squad room, safe and unharmed. They both look down at the amulet, the significance of its glow washing over them.

Now, back in Season 5, Castiel said it would burn hot in God’s presence. In this episode, Metatron says it burns brightly. That could be Metatron misremembering – and thereby creating a more dramatic reveal. But I like to think the ‘burns hot’ still applies, and the fact that Dean is able to hold the amulet is some hint about his role in defeating Amara. It’s probably not, but it’s my head!canon and I’m sticking to it.

Remember one night, in the drizzling rain / And round my heart, I felt an aching pain
Fare thee well, oh honey / Fare thee well

Metatron is drawn to the manuscript. He reads through the new pages. He looks up at Chuck as he reaches the end. He looks heartbroken.

One of these days, it won’t be long / You’ll call my name, and I’ll be gone
Fare thee well, oh honey / Fare thee well

On Main Street the fog is gone. The air is clear. The infected are made whole. Deputy Harris and her not shot in the face husband embrace and cling to each other. Sam and Dean slowly walk down the street. Dean keeps checking the Samulet, not really sure what to believe or expect. It keeps on glowing.

Chuck smiles, happy to see them again.

“We should probably talk.”

Just a few days after this episode aired, Robbie Thompson tweeted that he was leaving the show after five seasons. You probably heard the collective gasp and cries of, ‘NOOOOOOOOO!!’ throughout the fandom.

Robbie is a writer whose episodes I looked forward to. I knew they were going to be smart and funny and filled with wonderful character moments. He gave us Charlie and Cain. He gave Baby a POV. He gave us the greatest musical of all time (sorry, Hamilton) and he didn’t forget Adam.

Above all, Robbie Thompson loved this show and respected the story and its characters – unlike SOME  PEOPLE. He gave the fans what we wanted without pandering. He respected the fans because he’s one too.


Oh, Robbie. What will we do without you?

Fare thee well, all the fruit baskets, and best wishes for what comes next. I hope it’s show running Wayward Daughters. Or Chuckatron.


Seriously, WOULD WATCH.

Supernatural airs Wednesday Thursday at 8:00 p.m. on The CW.  Follow Whitney on twitter @Watcher_Whitney.

This post originally appeared on the Hearst site chron.com.

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