Jasaiah watched, though his head didn't move, and his own eyes narrowed at the dead look in Drake's eyes. He listened carefully, catching the flash of regret in his eyes. Everyone had baggage. Jasaiah was no saint. He'd killed thousands of people, and in truth considered himself just as much of a monster as the next person who slaughtered others. "Running from the past does not lead anywhere positive. There is no chance to heal, no opportunity to grow. Drake made his choice, and you making them for him is not going to resolve anything." He watched Drake burn the notebook, glad he still remembered everything.<br/><br/>Jas was still working to break the compulsion, feeling the tips of his tails twitch, but the gesture was so subtle it would be difficult to notice. Dimitraeus had used mind compulsion on him countless times, as did other vampire lovers he'd had in the past. Scarlette included. So he'd had many, many years of practice, and for all Drake's strength he was still just a baby vampire. "Indeed we do. But that does not make it right. Even if we cannot handle the truth, it is better than being fragmented and driven mad by the loss of that information. Forgetting is nothing pleasing by any regard." He closed his eyes. In and out. It was like breaking the links on a chain, shattering the compulsion piece by excruciating piece.<br/><br/>His eyes opened once more. The compulsion hadn't broken yet, but it was only a matter of time. "David," he said. "What could you have possibly done? Slaughter a loved one? Tortured them? Did you willingly give into the experiments that altered your body and turned you into a killing machine?" It was pretty apparent that, even though Jasaiah respected him, he wasn't afraid of him.