"The council?" Autumn hysterically questioned the instant she detected the terror written across Tate's face. It was something he couldn't hide, though it was obvious that he tried.

Tate didn't respond to her burning request. He was mentally absent, lost within the borders of his own mind. She wished she could have access to his mind so she'd be able to understand just what was happening.

Autumn gave him a few seconds to return to reality but, when a minute had passed with no sign of awareness, she began to panic.

"Tate?" He snapped back to the real world. Tate sped across the room and to the dresser, tearing open the drawer. "Tate?" Autumn's voice wavered. Tate mumbled incoherent sentences to himself as he combed through the drawer.

Autumn threw the sheets off of her legs, exposing an outfit that wasn't her own. She was currently wearing a plain white top and a pair of dark wash jeans.

She guessed her other clothes had been covered in her blood. Her own crimson . . . sticky . . . She had to practically heave herself from thinking down that dark path. She was determined to shove it away and keep the memories there.

Right now, she needed to figure out who the ominous council was.

"Whose clothes are these?" Autumn wondered. Her eyes reverted back to Tate as he leaned rearward and tossed a jacket onto the bed.

"Put that on," he instructed.

"Tate?" Autumn was becoming increasingly frustrated. He snatched a pair of boots from the ground that had been concealed behind the dresser. "Tate!" He gazed into her big eyes. "Will you please tell me what is going on?"

"I . . ." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. The council is . . . well . . . they're like our president's. They decide everything that happens, what everyone does, and all that good stuff." Tate chucked the boots in her direction; they landed below her. He spun around and collected the remains of the chair.

Autumn slipped on one arm of the jacket with ease. However, as she twisted around to put on the other, a horrible pain exploded. She yelped, gripping her side. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes; it was that kind of excruciating pain.

Before Autumn could so much as sharply inhale, Tate had bounded across the room and was presently kneeling in front of her. One of his hands rested on her shoulder, the other hovered over her cheek as his instincts had kicked in and directed him to do it.

"Are you alright?" Autumn bit into her lip so hard she could taste blood. "Autumn?" She bobbed her head as a sign. "Let me do it." Autumn felt so helpless and weak. While she sucked in air and strained not to cry, Tate forced on the other sleeve.

"Why do they want to see me?" Autumn inquired once she was able to control her reactions. Tate had shifted from the jacket and to her feet. He had already put on and tied the left shoe and was slipping her foot into the right one.

"Just to say hi." Tate was such a terrible liar.

Once he had completed his babysitting duties, he rose and extended his hands to her. Autumn gratefully accepted them and he unhurriedly assisted her to her feet. Her lower abdomen was extremely sore and, once Autumn had successful stood, she doubled over.

Tate allotted her a handful of seconds to whimper from the discomfort before he shared his imperative message.

"Autumn, you have to listen to me carefully." Tate's words caught her worry but mostly her attention. She stood tall, his tone worrisome. "People here . . . They're not . . ." He sighed. "Just . . . stay with me at all times, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."

Why would I get hurt? Who here would want to hurt me?

That's when Autumn saw her face. She pictured Kyra's evil smirk the moment a bullet had pierced Autumn-

"Hey," Tate caught the distress behind her gaze. "I won't let anything happen." Reaching down, he squeezed her hand. Autumn appreciated this small gesture and smiled, signaling her thanks.

The two both felt a sense of security around each other, something Tate hadn't felt in years. He figured that was the reason he had risked everything for her, the reason he was going to continue to risk everything.

Tate freed Autumn and advanced towards the door, gripping the handle. He hesitated, suddenly unable to gather the strength to turn it. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this. He didn't know if he could hear his punishment, let alone Autumn's.

"Tate?" Autumn's voice was small. He glanced at her over his shoulder with a stern expression.

"Stay with me." Tate thrust the door open. Autumn trudged forward a few steps, not wanting to be but an arms distance from her protector. Tate exited the room and drove them to the left and down the hall. Autumn examined the grand halls as they strode.

They were bursting with people, all of them excitedly different in every way. The setting reminded Autumn of an office building. There were multiple rooms all around, each leading to something different.

She pressed her gaze to the back of Tate's head, not wanting to lose him. As hard as she tried, the urge to marvel at the beauty of the area was too strong. So, as they turned around the bed, they wandered.

She spotted a sweet looking older woman whom was carrying a pile of books. Her frail hands quivered as she staggered. One of the books skated off the top of her stack and dropped to the floor.

"Stay with me" Autumn could hear Tate advice in the back of her head. However, as she watched the woman struggle to reach over and grab the fallen book, she came to the conclusion that she had no choice but to help.

Autumn hurried from behind Tate and jogged over to the woman. She picked up her book, though it brought her unspeakable agony, and handed it over.

The woman took it, all smiles, until she saw Autumn. That's when her smile morphed into a look of pure hatred. The woman chucked her book at Autumn, screaming at the top of her lungs:

"Don't touch me you no life scum!"

The woman heaved another book, Autumn shuffling backwards to distance herself from another attack. As she did, she bumped into a man. When Autumn whirled around to apologize, the man commenced his shouts of opposition.

"You shouldn't even be here! Your kind isn't welcome!"

"You should be burned alive for thinking you could come here!" Before she could even comprehend what was occurring, Autumn was engulfed in a sea of strange and angry faces.

"Stop! Please!" Autumn pleaded.

"Don't talk to us!" A man shrieked as another person shoved Autumn. She tripped over her own feet and fell onto her back. Nursing her burning wound, she shielded herself as an unknown object smacked her leg. The tirade continued and when she dared to peek up she saw Tate tearing through the crowd.

She had never been so happy to see another person so much in her life.

As the words being shrieked at her and the people surrounding her got worse and worse, Tate hastened closer and closer. He hauled people from his pathway, expelling them from the crowd.

After another minute, he knocked a teenager to his knees and Tate had reached her. He latched onto her arm and yanked her to her feet.

Autum threw herself at him, hugging him so tightly she was afraid she'd squeeze the life out of him. She watched as just the sight of Tate caused the group to disperse. Tate wrapped an arm around Autumn, dragging her away with him.

The things those people did, the things they said; it made no sense what so ever. They were human? Just because they possessed mind-blowing gifts didn't changed that.

"I told you not to leave me!" Tate barked, halting outside of a wooden door at the end of the hall. Autumn could see a man stand guard on the other side of it. Tate forced Autumn to face him, his grip tight on her wrist.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" Just saying those words broke her heart. She had tried to do good, Autumn only wanted to help. She felt as if her heart was being torn to pieces in her chest. Autumn caved, tears streaming down her face. "I . . . I was just trying to help her she dropped her book and I just wanted-" Autumn's jumbled ramblings were silenced once Tate reached out and gently wiped away the tears with his thumb.

"It's okay. The residents here . . . They don't understand . . . They don't see themselves as humans. They think were superior. Don't pay any mind to it." Autumn knew Tate was only trying to comfort her but he'd somehow managed to make the situation worse.

She was considered to be nothing more than a bug to these people. In their eyes, she was something that needed to be squashed.

Someone tapped there first against the glass window on the door. Both Autumn and Tate snapped their heads up and towards the source of the sound. Clarke stood on the other side, tapping her vacant wrist as if to imply for them to check the time.

"We're coming!" Tate shouted. She rolled her eyes and muttered something only audible on her end of the hall. Clarke then disappeared into a nearby room. "Are you ready?" Tate queried.

Autumn couldn't help but copy Clarke's annoyed façade as the question was ridiculous. Especially considering she had no idea just what exactly she was getting herself into. Nodding instead of verbally answering him had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do; how could she be ready?

Tate tapped the glass, the guard peered at him, typed in an access code, and then swung open the door. Tate ushered Autumn ahead of him and inside, steering her to the same door Clarke had stepped through moments before.

"Just don't say anything. They want to see you, not hear you." He offered his last piece of advice before swinging open the door.

Autumn stumbled inside. The first thing she noticed was an elongated desk. It reminded her of a judges bench; an extremely stretched out one. Five people sat behind it, all of them watching Autumn with horror, disgust, and oddly enough fascination.

Clarke stood in the back corner of the room. Autumn traveled towards her, wanting to be near a familiar face. Clarke shook her head, a warning not to come near. Autumn was too frightened to be hurt by this gesture.

Tate materialized at Autumn's side and redirected her towards the five unfriendly people. They ceased a few inches in front of the table.

"Mr. Brechbuhl," a man on the far right side spoke up. He was a heftier man with a round face and a pointed nose. "Would you like to explain to us what that," he rested, signaling to Autumn, "is doing here?"

"Yes sir." Tate cleared his throat. "She was dying from a gunshot wound and wouldn't have made it to a hospital in time-"

"So you brought it here and compromised not only the mission but everyone here?!" The man on the right side of the heavier gentleman cried. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun which, while containing her grey locks, tugged back her face.

"Ma'am, If I may-" Autumn started, wanting to help Tate.

"Tell that thing to shut up! It does not speak in our presence unless it is granted permission!" The bigger man screamed, his face turning a deep red.

"Let me handle this," Tate uttered.

"What are we going to do to her?" A crooked toothed man spat, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"You mean with her! It can't stay here!" The wrinkled-bun woman protested.

"She's endangering us all. You know humans, they attract trouble." The weightier man said in a demanding tone. The room fell uncomfortably silent as all eyes seemed to shift to the man sitting directly in the center. Autumn inferred he was the leader by the way he received attention so easily.

"Do we kill it? Give it to the exterminators for their own sick use?" The final man, one who had broccoli stuck in his teeth, spoke.

"Kill me!?" Autumn couldn't help but gasp. "No! Please!"

"Tate!" Tight-bun spat profusely as she shouted. "Shut it up!" He wanted to hold Autumn more than anything and assure her that everything would be okay. However, he wasn't so sure of it.

"Autumn, please," Tate pleaded.

"May I approach the council, Mr. Black?" Clarke voiced from the crook of the room. The council's heads all whipped towards her.

"You may," the leader, officially named Mr. Black, permitted. Clarke gradually made her way over, standing next to Autumn. "I think we are leaving out a big chunk of information which should be known before we decide her fate."

"And what is that?" Mr. Black queried.

"Autumn saved both Tate's life and mine." Time seemed to halt as the council froze in place, all observing each other with shocked expressions.

"It . . . It did what?" The woman dared to question.

"She . . . saved me," Tate resumed his role as defense, "and she saved Clarke. She risked her life twice for us. An exterminator was about to kill us and she took him out. Kyra also attacked us. She was about to shoot us when Autumn pushed us out of the way, taking a bullet in the process." The council instantaneously commenced its little huddle as they murmured amongst themselves.

Autumn bit her lip, struggling to stay strong. They spoke of her death with such ease it made her stomach turn. Her eyes seared but Autumn denied allowing these people the privilege of watching her break down.

Right now, they were invested in an image of Autumn. Not the weak little human but the hero. She couldn't give them anything to doubt. Her life quite literally rested in their hands.

The council gather together, clustering themselves like a football team discussing a play. Their backs were to Autumn, Tate and Clarke. Though they attempted to whisper, a few words and phrases were shouted out for all to hear.

Some of the ones she'd heard included: Death, destruction, and doom. Tate leaned in, moving in front of Autumn.

"What's going to happen?" Autumn looked from Tate to Clarke, waiting for some sign of comforting response. She, in its place, got an answer from the council.

"This is a very troubling decision," Mr. Black began, calling the focus to himself with his booming voice. "Especially because it . . . she did something no other human has ever done before. Saved one of us."

Autumn was so confused as to why her saving Tate was such a big blow.

"She's different than the other humans. She spent the entire day saving not only us, but any human she came in contact with. . . I owe her my life . . . And I will protect hers with it," Tate addressed the issue, getting unapproved scowls from the council.

"Are you testing us Mr. Brechbuhl?" The bigger man interjected.

"No. I am . . ." Tate hesitated, watching Clarke. She was giving him a fuming-with-rage expression. Autumn, on the other hand, was bewildered by the fact that Tate was defending her so strongly. "Simply stating."

"We all owe you," the broccoli toothed man expressed. The others unhurriedly looked daggers at him. He was smaller than the others but made sure his voice was heard.

"Owe? A human?" The woman quizzed with dismay.

"He's right," the man with glasses bobbed his head in painful agreement.

"You're so much like your father." Mr. Black reminisced with an oddly timed grin. "We will allow . . . this human to stay. Speak with Cade, let him create a story about her that the exterminators won't expect. She will stay for a month or two. Enough time for them to lose interest in her."

"Mr. Black, you've got to be kidding?!" The woman shrieked. "Just because you're stuck in memory lane- "

"Silence Mrs. Hildridge!" He howled, his voice making everyone jump. "You are the first human to ever have walked these halls," his rage shifted to her; Autumn wasn't sure what to do. "And you'll be the last."