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Jimmy shook his head at the small man clinging doggedly to his tail, almost literally in the empty but for them DC-19 flying over the ocean towards home, how the little guy had managed to convince him to get this far...yeah he still wasn’t sure but the guy sure had the ‘wear them down till they say yes’ thing pat. Heh he’d make not a half bad counter agent wouldn’t he? With sweet innocent face.

“You get this is literally a suicide mission?” because yes he’d only said that a few times before. “There is no way you and me alone can get him out. Ain’t happening.”

The thing about this, about working with John (that was a whole thing) to find their son, meant that finding him meant also finding Michael.

Michael. As in the archangel. The crazy, homocid- no, genocidal, evil archangel that wanted to use her son’s body in order to destroy pretty much everything. She knew that even if she or John were able to find Dean, there was really very little either or even both of them together could do other than plead with their son to fight against the archangel. Truthfully, she wasn’t even certain why she was trying to find him other than because she needed to do something, she had to try, even if it was impractical.

She couldn’t just let Dean go without a fight. Not this time. She had made deals with demons, she had died and been brought back, she had left her sons behind. Too much, she had abandoned her family too many times to do it again. She could be better, she was better than that. She loved her boys, she loved her husband, and she would see them all together again.

Safe. Alive. Together.

But she also needed to rest, or she would be no good to anyone if… When they found Dean. So she returned to the bunker, heading to the kitchen. Someone was in there… With a small smile, she called out, “Sam? That you?” It could be John, of course, but somehow it didn’t feel like it was him in the kitchen…

@starkly

For Dean! <3

Ella reaches out a tentative hand pressing lightly on the glass separating her from falling into the star spangled nightscape before her. If the view had been impressive when they were tethered to a tall tower in London; it was nothing compared being one thin pane of glass away from the eternity of the heavens.

Ella tried to spot the ocean far below, but it was lost to the inky darkness unhindered by lights; it reminded her of another voyage in a glass vehicle, venturing forward into the unknown, brave and fearful by turns, unsure of what the future held, only that she speed towards it eyes open and hope in her heart.

Of course that night had lead indirectly to this one as all roads in your past lead to your future. Ella shook her head, hand curling at the cold surface, she was getting muddlen in her age…

@mike

Jacob tucked the tray more firmly into his elbow giving the door a quick double tap before entering; they were six hours from London, the night was cold and dark this high up in the sky, but he knew his captain and partner would still be awake, honestly it was luck and sense of her own innate rhythm developed over the years that told him she would have returned to her rooms after tinkering with god only knew what.

What he also suspected was that she had been driven to her quarters by a biological need which she had than forgotten to satiate, likely finding something else to obesse over in the few minutes between entering and sitting down. “You need to eat Rauri.” came the gentle amused, yet persistent voice.

Jacob set down the covered tray, finding a clean chair (or making one) to sit with her, she always took better care of herself when he sat with her to keep her mind focused on the task of dealing with her bodies needs.

@alex

“Thank you.” Ella flashed a small smile at the maid who had been assigned to help her with her morning toilet; she’d not had a ladies maid in…well let us simply say a very long time and the strangeness of having someone bring in her bath water and help her dress was something she had never grown accustomed to.

“If you could help me with my corset?” logically she knew the girl would assume to have that duty, but the habit of polite requests instead of demanding orders was not one she was of a mind to break. Cornsilk hair was pulled over her shoulder to allow access to the laces - Ella could manage alone but effort would be slapdash - “not too tightly please.” she requested as the garment slide over her petticoats.

@megs