Any thought of fleeing long ago abandoned Johnny, along with most of his animal instincts and all his human ones. He's frozen up there, his dragon slithering back and forth uneasily. The way these two have been carrying on, their voices filling up his head, resonating bone-deep within him, he feels like he's going crazy (again), and like he is definitely going to die (again). He can barely even track the argument, though it seems to at least laterally involve him.

Then the building is shaking. It's collapsing. Fuck. Fuck!

Illyria's helpful suggestion does not even register. He leaps up on trembling legs and backs into the dragon, which is already taking off, not caring just how well he's holding on. He has his arms around its long neck, sort of dangling like an ill-placed proverbial carrot. Almost immediately something hits them, and he almost loses his grip; another fireball, from another dragon, just seared right on through his ride's wing. Well that's just fucking spectacular.

It spirals down with a deafening screech and crashes heavily into the broken pavement, managing to land with Johnny on top of its shuddering bulk.

He reels up, staring at the heaving, grounded thing, then up at Illyria, and then, finally, turning around to face Lucifer.