Hey guys! I don't know if you know, but recently my story was stolen. I am now being told that I stole this story. I just wanted to make it clear, THIS IS MY STORY! I remember the exact moment I got the idea for this story, I remember the countless weeks editing and rewriting every chapter, and I remember being so exited about posting it. I honestly don't care what the people who don't believe me think, I know I wrote this. Another thing I wanted to say, is stealing someone elses story is awful. Please don't ever do this! It's an awful feeling! 

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After David and Jade had exchanged very few yet very heated words Jade had stormed off. David put forth an effort and rambled through an apology but Autumn was broken up. She had no desire to eat nor did she want to be anywhere near David.

Eventually, Autumn found herself begging David to take her to the only place she had felt safe-ish; Cade's.

"Ahh, so you've fallen for the fabulous Cade," David teased as they departed from the cafeteria.

"It just . . . feels better in there." Autumn wasn't how or if she even needed to explain herself.

"Oh no, I get it. I love just watching him and Clarke bicker. Plus, he likes to think he can take someone out with his cane," David chortled.

"Can I ask why he has the cane?" David paused, biting the inside on his lip.

"It's not really my story to tell. . . But what I can say is that before his accident, he was that person that everyone loved. He was always doing stuff for others and he was just so . . . well happy. And now, he-he just . . . stays in his officer and never leaves." David frowned, clearly distraught over his friend.

"That can't be healthy," Autumn commented, glancing at David.

"It's not," David heaved a sigh. "Tate and I have tried to get him to leave but he refuses. So long story short," David paused both his story and their stride as they approached his office. "Just take it easy on him, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Autumn wondered. She wasn't sure why she was getting the warning when they'd been nothing but nice to one another.

"How do I put this . . . he uh, well he gets . . . very attached to certain people. An-and I just don't want him to-"

"Get attached to someone who's just going to end up leaving," Autumn presented the rest of his jumbled thought.

"Exactly." Autumn and David shut their mouths and crossed the threshold into Cade's office. He was snoring vociferously and he was slanted backwards in his office chair.

"Should we leave?" Autumn deliberated.

"Excuse me!" Someone shrieked at the top of their lungs, stomping into Cade's office. Cade leapt from his seat, knocking both the chair and himself onto the ground. "You need to stop being so loud." A woman flung her hands over her ears, her sunshine blonde hair swaying as she addressed Cade and then reeled around to stand in front of Autumn.

"Sorry?" David endeavored to make an apology.

"And you! You reek! Please find a way to fix that!" The woman cried, storming off. Autumn and David exchanged looks, unsure of what to say. Cade broke into a fit of laughter as he stretched his hand out for his cane. David moved a single step forward to assist his friend and received the nastiest of glares humanely possible. snatching his cane, leaping off the ground and fixing his chair.

"Do I really smell that bad?" Autumn forced the fabric of her shirt to her nose. Not only did she clothes produce no horrid odor but they also smelled like lavender.

"God yes. I could smell you coming down the hall," Cade joked as he successfully got a hold of his cane. His right leg trembled and his face altered into a slight pink as he struggled, but ultimately prospered, in standing up.

"No, that's just Sibella," David explained, shouting over Cade's wild laughter. "She's really sensitive to sounds . . . and smells . . . and tastes . . . You get the idea." It was five or so minutes later when Cade, at last, ceased his laughing. Wiping away tears, he took in a deep breath.

"That just made my day," Cade exclaimed.

"Well I'm glad," David faked a grin. "How's the cheek?" Autumn giggled the second her eyes landed on Cade's bright red cheek.

"Autumn!" Cade shouted, overlooking David entirely. "I've been working on a few things and I have a thought. How would you feel about pranking Mark?"

"Mark?" David speculated.

"Her asshole of a boyfriend," Cade rolled his eyes. "Ditched her completely."

"Wow," David nodded.

"Makes you feel like a good boyfriend doesn't it?" David ran his tongue over his front row of teeth.

"Would you mind if I left?" David asked, setting a hand on Autumn's shoulder. Autumn jumped at first, however, she managed to gather her composure.

"No, that's fine," she smiled.

"Thanks," David rushed from the room. Cade surveyed him inquisitively but shrugged it off, plopping down into his seat.

"Back to my question about Mark," Cade spun the empty office chair around and Autumn took it as a sign to sit. She glided into the seat next to him.

"I don't know. What kind of prank?" Autumn leaned backwards in her chair, biting her nail. She couldn't stop thinking about Tate. Would he be alright? What punishment would he get?

"I haven't decided yet," Cade yanked open a drawer, smashing a pile of papers down on the table. "I was thinking about it all night." Cade eyed Autumn, detecting her lack of interest in the topic of pranks. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing." She didn't want to pester him with her problems. Besides, she needed to keep her distance.

"You're a terrible liar," he muttered under his breath. Autumn needed someone to talk to or her head would explode from the pressure.

"Is . . . Is the council really going to punish Tate?" Autumn stared at him. Cade shifted in his chair, the topic obviously one he wasn't a fan of discussing.

"He'll," Cade cleared his throat, eyes on the ground. "He'll be alright." Bobbing his head, he looked to her. "Clarke might be a huge jerk but she'll protect her brother. She won't let anything happen to him."

"But what if she can't stop it? I mean what if something bad happens to him and it's all my faul-"

"Autumn, stop," Cade shook his head. "You can't think like that."

"I can't help it," Autumn sighed heavily.

"You really like him, don't you?" Cade's tone was different. Typically, his tone was hefty with sarcasm but now it was serious.

"I barely know him." Autumn didn't understand why her answer felt like a lie. It was true, she barely knew him. Yet, some part of her didn't feel that way.

"That doesn't mean you don't care about him. People don't just take a bullet for someone without motivation." Cade lifted the corner of his lip to signal a sympathetic smile, patting her shoulder. He went on to continue speaking about his pranks, even though he knew Autumn wasn't taking note.

She was the definition of a nervous wreck. A tightness in her stomach prevented her from eating anything. The lump in her throat minimized her talking. The utter terror of losing the only person who didn't want her dead exhausted her.

Cade eventually noticed Autumn wasn't focused on anything and he grew tired of speaking to a brick wall. He shifted his attention and began working, hitting key after key on the board as he typed a report. He paused every so often to scoff down a candy bar or a bag of chips.

"Want one?" Cade managed to break into Autumn's clouded mind to ask. She glanced at the time, realizing she'd ignored Cade and tortured herself with dark thoughts for more than an hour.

"No thanks," Autumn responded.

"And she's back," he laughed.

"Hey," Spinning around her heart skipped a beat. Autumn sprang from her seat, throwing herself at Tate. He caught her, not before stumbling backwards.

"Thank god," Autumn mumbled into his shoulder, pulling him closer. He hesitated, only for a moment, before wrapping an around her. "I was so worried." Tate rested his chin on top of her head. Autumn enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, the strong smell of his shirt, and the comfort coursing through her body.

"Well this is cute, shall I take a picture?" Cade disturbed their moment. The two leapt back and away from one another almost immediately, fixing there now wrinkled clothes.

"Sorry," Autumn shook her head. "I just uh . . ." She was at a loss for words.

"It's okay," Tate smirked. "Glad to see you too."

"She's been worried all day, it's been painfully awful," Cade continued. Autumn twisted around on her heels, eyes wide as if to tell Cade: SHUT UP.

"Are you guys in the middle of something?" Tate wondered and that's when Autumn noticed the elastic wrap draped around his left arm; it hadn't been like that earlier. Autumn couldn't take her eyes off of it. He had been punished because of her and that made her want to throw up.

"Nope, she's all yours," Cade reverted back to his serious tone. He saw it also.

"Great," Tate smiled. "You're with me." Tate lead Autumn from the room and out into the semi-vacant hall.

"Where is everyone?" Autumn quizzed, comforted by the lack of people.

"Usually it quiets down after lunch. Everyone's busy doing their jobs."

"Jobs?" Autumn inquired as Tate led her past the cafeteria, past her current room, and down the marble corridor.

"Yeah, when you're eighteen you're assigned a specific job based on a bunch of different tests. The council gets to pick where you go." They turned down a painfully familiar passageway and Autumn could see the same guard standing at the door.

A small fraction of herself panicked, warning Autumn that Tate was tricking her. That he was going to direct her right into the arms of the council. Instead, he heaved open the third door down from the guard. Tate held open the door for her and, when she had stepped inside of the stairwell, resumed control of their trek.

"What's your job?"

"They call it a praesidium." Autumn found herself tremendously fatigued. She couldn't tear down the stairs the way Tate had or even at the same pace as her grandma probably would. She even noticed Tate slow his pace when he realized how far ahead of her he was.

"A what?" She queried. Reaching the last flight of stairs, Tate leapt to the bottom and held the single door for her.

"A praesidium, it's Latin for protector. It's my job to keep an inventory on our food, medicine, and other things like that. When we get low or are out of a handful of things we organize and plan our missions to go get more."

"Wow," Autumn was impressed. "That sounds . . . fun?"

"It does, doesn't it?" Tate chortled. "It will never cease to amaze me how much I enjoy counting soup cans." Autumn chuckled as they finished their journey and were presently at the bottom of the steps.

"Where are you taking me?" Tate threw open the single door at the end of the stairway and Autumn cautiously treaded inside. The moment she moved in the bounds of the room Autumn felt like she had crossed into a different world.

The lone crimson carpet was swathed in golden swirls and strange inscriptions. The walls harmonized with the carpets color and a few pictures with beautiful picturesque frames were nailed into the walls.

"Welcome," Tate presented, clapping his hands together for the full effect.

"What is this?" Autumn pondered, unable to mask the amazement in her tenor. Tate strolled up to her and, once the two stood by one another, they unhurriedly moved side by side down the passageway.

"It's like our museum. The pictures on the walls are of our previous presidents and council members." Autumn tried to imagine which council member received the most attention. She then summarized that Mr. Black was the president of the council and that thought gave her chills.

"How long has this place been around to have this many presidents?" Autumn totaled twenty photos, ten on each wall.

"About three hundred years." Autumn raised a brow, used to her version of a four-year-term presidency. "When a new president is chosen, they then pick who will be in charge when they're gone. A leader has to stay in charge for at least ten years but after that they're allowed to pass it on to the next president." Autumn investigated the faces of the people they passed.

Each one was different; no leader looked the same as another. Yet, each of them seemed human. Autumn wasn't sure why the current residents didn't consider themselves to be that. Tate came to a standstill at the second to last photo on the right-hand side.

"Who's this?" Autumn could see a spark of recognition in his eyes.

"My dad," Tate's voice cracked. Autumn cast an eye over the photo in an effort to highlight the similarities; she could see them so clearly: same hair color, same gorgeous eyes, and the same kind smile.

"Your dad's the president?" Had Autumn missed a member of the council?

"He-uh . . . He was." Autumn felt like such a jerk.

"Oh . . . "She stuttered. "I-I-I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, you didn't know." Tate fell silent, looking intently at the picture. It was a few minutes before he resumed their stroll. "I was supposed to take over after my father but uh . . . when he died they said I wasn't of age and they chose my dad's best friend instead."

"Mr. Black?" Autumn guessed. Tate bobbed his head in an inaudible response. His took in his father's appearance a final time before voyaging through the single door in the hall. Autumn trailed after him, astonished by the enormous back room.

This one was as plain as the hallways, complete with blue walls and marble floors.

Autumn now comprehended Tate's use of the word 'museum' to describe this place because that's exactly what it appeared to be. A few items were protected in cases of glass and the rest were hung proudly on the walls.

Tate observed Autumn from the crook of the room as she took it in in its entirety. Autumn ambled over to the nearest case and gazed inside. A knife was being supported on a small stand, the tip of it chipped off.

"That knife was made and used by one of the first Fortis," Tate educated her, drumming his finger against the glass in excitement.

"Fortis?" Autumn inquired.

"It's a really old name."

"I like it," she beamed. Tate emulated her smile, flashing his bright teeth her way.

"This one's cooler," Tate jogged to a casing across the room. Autumn wasn't even halfway to it when Tate began to describe its significance.

"It goes along with one of our legends," he started, waiting until she was staring at the case to finish. "This legend's my favorite. There was this Fortis called 'Parker'. Apparently Parker escaped capture from twenty humans and ran four miles with this arrow in his leg."

Autumn was hypnotized by Tate's eagerness; it was to adorable.

"That's amazing." Curious to see more, she shuffled around. Tate kept an eye on her, elbows propped up on the case, anticipating her final choice. Autumn was drawn to the shining case across the way.

"What language is this? I saw it in the hallway too," Autumn requested, incapable of grasping the scribbles transcribed on the ripened piece of paper. Tate virtually leapt across the room.

"It's an old language Fortis used to communicate without anyone knowing what they were saying. It's called est verum which literally means written truth."

"Wow," she uttered. "I guess they really loved Latin and obvious names for things." They shared a laugh.

"This one's really cool too. It's the legend of The Uniter. The Fortis's have been separated for a while. For as long as we've existed it's always been the ones who believe we can live together with humans, and the ones who don't. The Uniter is supposed to come along, bring everyone who wants to live in peace together, and fight for that unison."

As Tate persisted to explain the tale in depth his voice seemed to get more and more distant with each word. Autumn's body abruptly switched its internal temperature up a hundred degrees. She felt as if any second she was going to hurl. Every inch of her body went frail and Autumn felt as if she hadn't eaten in months.

"Are you okay?" Tate's voice reverberated in her ears. Her legs quaked and wobbled before giving out. Autumn didn't even have time to suck in a breath before she fell. Autumn's brain registered the fall yet Autumn hadn't physically felt it.

She knew Tate had caught her and was currently wrapping an arm around waist in an effort to steady her. However, there was a disconnect from her mind and her body.

"Autumn, what's wrong?" He pleaded, his hand on her cheek. She lost her ability to speak. Autumn was screaming in terror in her mind but the words couldn't be articulated. As soon as she recuperated her balance, it left.

Crashing into Tate's chest again, he lowered her to the ground.

"Autumn!" She couldn't hear him anymore but she could see his mouth screaming something at her. The panic was so visible on his face.

All at once, everything faded to black and she was left alone in the dark.