He slowly turned the pages in his book, the words little more than a blur in front of him as his mind worked on sorting the information it'd been gathering. Tristan lay on the floor curled in a fetal position, his glare slowly softening to a nearly blank stare as the night wore on.

Jacob: "I think I understand it now."
Tristan: "What? What do you understand?"

Tristan's voice was listless and scratchy.

Jacob: "As you're probably quite well aware, the vampire virus creates a state of euphoria in its host when a human life is taken. This is how it ensures that it will survive and occasionally be passed on to a new host. The Order's drug works by directly affecting the virus, making it think that a vampire is feeding and thus bringing out their base instincts in a wave of ecstasy. In most of these cases, the vampires in question have little more desire for anything other than pleasure, be it derived from sex or sustenance. The two are so often intertwined in the vampiric lifestyle that there's really little point in trying to separate them. However, you're a little more sophisticated than most. You're basic instincts lay in protecting members of your family, be they biological or chosen. This gets a bit twisted because you hold within yourself the very real ability to do them immense harm. This contradiction had basically driven you mad tonight."
Tristan: "I think I'm going to be sick."

Jacob waited patiently as Tristan rolled over and vomited in the corner. He noted with curiosity that it seemed to be little more than bile and wondered when the last time he'd eaten or fed had been. After a few minutes, he sat up shakily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Tristan: "Sorry."
Jacob: "Vomiting is a natural bodily function -- your system is merely clearing out toxins."
Tristan: "I mean I'm sorry for my earlier actions. They were inexcusable."

Jacob closed his book and checked his watch before leaning in closer to where Tristan sat. While he did his best to avoid eye contact, it was clear that the red was gone from the irises.

Jacob: "Emily and I routinely engage in sexual intercourse."
Tristan: "No you don't. Neither one of you would even begin to think of it."

Jacob moved to unlock the gate and was startled when Tristan jumped back against the far wall.

Tristan: "Are you sure you want to do that?"
Jacob: "You do realize the sun will be coming up soon."
Tristan: "I'm not worried about my own safety. Please. Don't unlock that door."

Jacob quickly weighed his options. He was completely sure that the initial effects were long passed, but also was aware that the drug would still be present in Tristan's system. A quick glance at the night sky showing through a hole in the roof made his decision easier. He was too curious about the lasting effects of the evening to simply allow the man in front of him to join the rest of the dust already thick on the floor of the factory.

He unlocked the gate and stepped aside.

Jacob: "I can't let you stay here. You're more interesting alive than dead."
Tristan: "You're one freaky kid. You know that, right?"
Jacob: "Want a cigarette?"
Tristan: "Please."

Tristan: "Could you take me back to my car so I can go home and sleep the rest of this off? You don't have to come with me or anything."
Jacob: "I wasn't going to."

Tristan: "I suppose I owe you."
Jacob: "Gas money would be nice."
Tristan: "The price of my immortal conscious is less than ten dollars. Wonderful."

Jacob was relieved when Tristan turned his attention out the window; a dull aching pressure was beginning to build behind his eyes, which was never helped by people's irritating need for small talk. The remainder of the short drive from the factory to the club was spent in silence.

The parking lot was empty apart from Tristan's car, which sat untouched in a far corner. Jacob pulled the truck up next to it, leaving the engine running.

Tristan: "Can I have my stuff back now?"
Jacob: "It should be in the glove box."

Jacob rubbed his eyes in an attempt to alleviate his growing headache. As a low buzzing began in his ears, he realized the night had been considerably more stressful than he'd first thought. He just needed to be able to make it home and he would be OK.

Tristan: "My wallet and phone are in here, but my keys aren't."
Jacob: "Yes they are. I put them there myself."
Tristan: "Sorry, kiddo, they're not in here. Maybe you just thought you put them in the glove box?"
Jacob: "Highly unlikely."
Tristan: "No offense, but it's pretty apparent that you're not completely sane. I'm going to check the back of the truck in case they fell out of my pocket when you threw me in there. Care to give me a hand?"

He had jumped out of the cab of the truck before Jacob had any chance to explain that he remembered with perfect clarity putting the set of keys on top of the wallet and cell phone. There was a flickering moment of doubt that eventually moved him to join Tristan outside.

Jacob: "I know I put your keys in the glove box."
Tristan: "Just help me check back here. If we can't find them you can drive me home and I'll pick the car up tomorrow with my spare set."

Jacob: "They're not-"

There was a violent eruption of stars as a piece of scrap wood connected with the base of Jacob's skull. He felt the air driven out of his lungs with such brutal force he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to breathe again. His mind raced in confusion as he tried to work out what had happened and which way was up. Just as he was beginning to recover his senses he was being dragged by his shoulders out of the back of the truck and thrown to the ground.

Tristan: "I would gladly drive this straight through your god damned heart, but I think death by sunlight is more fitting for you. And you thought you were so smart…"

The raising chaos in Jacob's mind was instantly silenced by another blow to his head, leaving only an all-encompassing darkness.