The door to the study was at the end of a long hallway lined with doors leading placing Bruce could really only guess about. When he was young and had spent time here, it had been mostly outside with Sophia, Falcone's eldest daughter, and they'd run around the gardens and the woods even though they weren't supposed to. He thought fondly back on those memories, now, wondering what had happened to make her so angry and jaded.

As the door to the study opened Bruce stepped inside, dipping his head in polite thanks to the member of the staff before turning and allowing his eyes to sweep the room before landing on Falcone sitting comfortably in the leather chair behind his desk.

"Bruce," Falcone's tone was calm, a smile of equal measure tugging at his lips, "good of you to come, my apologies it had to be so late." He spoke as he turned in his chair and rose to his feet, walking slowly around the desk and motioning Bruce over before he came to a stop in front of it. At the request, Bruce was still a moment, but soon walked over and slowed to a stop in front of Falcone.

"It's no trouble, really. As I'm sure you know, I am usually awake into the night anyways," Bruce made an attempt at humor, but he could feel his own heart beating quickly, gears turning in his mind as he tried to figure something out. He recalled John's words about vampires as he examined the man's face.

"Of course." Falcone reached up and took a moment to lightly adjust the broach pinning the collar of Bruce's shirt closed, straightening it lightly out as he continued to speak, "your father was a great man, saved my life when I was only a bit older than you. You know that?" He watched Bruce nod his head before continuing, "I always told him I would repay that debt of life, but of course he died before I was given the opportunity. I would like to repay it now, to you, his only blood. That is why I have summoned you."

"I appreciate the gesture, my lord, but your debt was with my father, not me. The repayment isn't nece- what are you doing?" Bruce cut himself off as Falcone folded the collar of his shirt down to expose his neck. The action sent a sinking pit feeling into the bottom of Bruce's stomach and he took an instinctive step back, hands coming up to push Falcone's away but it was too late. Falcone grabbed Bruce's wrists as they raised and he used the leverage to turn him around and pin his wrists against his chest to hold the younger man against him.

Bruce barely registered the feeling as the teeth sunk into his neck, struggling against the iron-grip on his wrists and he was quickly falling into a panic, mouth opening to let out a scream he didn't even really hear. Falcone didn't care. No one would hear Bruce scream, and if they did they most certainly wouldn't come to help him. Deep down Bruce knew that, and the thought terrified him.

By the time Falcone had finished draining his body he felt weak, head tipped helplessly to the side and his eyes were distant and glossy. He could feel his body slowly lowered to the ground somewhat, still held in Falcone's arms but now, through his splotchy, darkening vision, he could see as Falcone bit his own wrist and moved it close to Bruce's mouth, ignoring the muffled noise of protest and forcing the blood past his lips. Falcone was going to turn him one way or another, willing or not.