This chapter's dedicated to the super nice abbitabbs138! This chapters just for you love!

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The first sound that broke through the chasm of darkness was Tate's voice. She couldn't make out his words due to the fact that he was speaking so fast. A second voice sounded moments later and, since this voice was slower, she could understand it.

"Tate, you need to calm down."

"Calm down!?" Tate howled. "How can I just calm down!?" The pressure that had kept her eyes shut dashed to her head. It pounded and Autumn couldn't hold back a groan any longer.

"She's waking up," the unknown person stated.

"Autumn?" Tate's expressed gently into her ear.

Autumn dared to peek open her eyes though she knew danger could lay ahead of her. At first, she was blinded by the illumination in the room. Blinking a few times cleared both that and the blur over her vision. She examined the beige ceiling before shifting her gaze landing to the terror-stricken Tate. He was resting in an old wooden chair next to her.

"You're okay," he breathed, undoubtedly relieved. Autumn tried to sit up but her head ache crippled her and, if Tate hadn't assisted her by placing a hand on her back, she wouldn't have been able to sit up.

"What . . . what happened?" She whimpered, holding her head in her hands.

"You fainted," the owner of the unidentified voice answered. Autumn ignored her pain to further investigate the stranger in the room. She hated how she couldn't trust anyone here to be a friend. She had to consider them a foe until proven otherwise.

The first, and perhaps the most notable feature he possessed, was his height. Autumn presumed that he had to be at least 6'2 and that was a low numbered guess. He was a slender man and his ebony skin seemed to highlight the warmth of his smile.

"I did?" Autumn was alarmed. She attempted to gather her memories together and that's when she noticed a huge gap between the being at the museum and waking up wherever they were.

"You don't remember?" Tate looked into. Autumn shook her head and immediately regretted it. For what felt like the hundredth time that day Autumns stomach flipped and she felt like she was going to throw up. "Is that normal, Ezra?"

The man had a name: Ezra. Ezra thought for a moment, scratching his shaved black hair, before bobbing his head.

"Yes, I think so."

"You think?" Tate snarled.

"I've told you a thousand times today Tate, I'm not an expert at humans! I've studied Fortis's and our bodies for fifteen years and have studied humans for less than a week!" Ezra was infuriated and, judging by the unexpected snap, Autumn figured he was under an immense amount of stress.

"I know- "Tate started to argue back. Not wanting to further annoy he closet thing to a doctor she'd get, Autumn cut him off.

"Why do you think this happened?" Ezra crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath.

"You lost a lot of blood when you first came here. And we had no choice but to do a blood transfusion-"

"How could a blood transfusion have made me sick?" Autumn detached a couple strands of hair from her face as they stuck to her cheeks due to the fact that she was blanketed in sweat.

"As you probably know you're the first human in here well . . . ever and there's no way we'd have any human blood to use. So, we had to use some of our own. I'm guessing that your immune system is overwhelmed and can't figure out if the blood we gave you is something that needs to be gotten rid of," Ezra explained.

As he did, he plopped down into a backless doctor's stool. Kicking himself across the tile floor, he set some papers onto a desk. Autumn reviewed the room; she was lying on an observation table.

She was in a doctor's office, exactly like the ones she used to go to. And that made her incredibly home sick.

"Are you the person who uh . . . removed the bullet?" Autumn realized the room had fallen silent and she tripped over her tongue as she broke it.

"I am," Ezra answered without breaking his focus from his current paperwork.

"Thank you." Ezra whirled around in his chair and, no matter how hard to tried to contain it, it was hard not to see that he was taken a back.

"For?" He probed just to be clarify.

"For . . . saving my life." Autumn had to shove away the image of Kyra from her mind.

"Thank you for saving Tate and Clarke. It was a very brave thing to do . . . Human or not." Ezra broke away from his paperwork and yanked a stethoscope out from one of the drawers.

"Deep breath for me," he requested as he put it on and set it against her chest. Autumn did as instructed, taking in a lengthy and overdo deep breath. "Again." He relocated it to her back. Autumn repeated the soothing breath. Tate hovered over Ezra's shoulder.

"Space please," Ezra said with a hint of laughter. Tate hesitated by ultimately sat back down.

"I was worried about you," Ezra muttered.

"Hmm?"

"I mean; I was worried you'd be in serious pain after surgery. I did give you some medicine then and it seems to have worked."

"Thank you." Autumn was grateful.

"You are very welcome." Ezra returned to his stool, scribbling some notes down. The only audible sound was that of the pencil scratching against the paper.

"Why . . ." Autumn wavered, afraid her question would cause an unfavorable retort. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"The majority opinion here isn't exactly shared by everyone," Ezra began, eyes on his paperwork. He gazed at her. "Tate and I don't see the world the way they do."

Even though Tate had been sticking his neck out for her for the longest time, Autumn had never taken into thought the opinion he held of her.

"Speaking of Tate, I should probably rewrap your arm?" Tate's eyes grew wide, darting to his shoes.

"We'll talk about this later."

"Don't worry about it. I promise I won't tell Mr. Black I checked it out," Ezra argued, rising from his seat. Tate opened his mouth to object, but Ezra was already in front of him. Latching onto his wrist, Ezra stretched for the bandage.

Autumn went sheet white. It was, after all, her fault that Tate had been hurt. The thought of seeing what she had done to him made her want to cry.

"Are you okay?" Ezra commented on Autumn's appearance. "You just dropped two shades. Your paler than a vampire." He released his grip on Tate.

"I think I just need some sleep," Autumn wanted to get out of here.

"Of course," Ezra agreed. Tate sprang to his feet, lingering at her bedside.

"Can you walk?" Autumn really didn't want to. She was fine with Tate carrying her down the halls. However, that would only give people more reason against him. Autumn nodded, lowering herself out of the bed.

Tate's hands were out, ready to catch her if need be.

Autumn's legs were sore, but she was determined to make it to her room. When Tate was won over and believed that Autumn could stand on her own, he dropped his arms to his side.

"Thank you," Autumn curved in Ezra's direction.

"Oh stop thanking me," Ezra engulfed her in a hug. Autumn was startled at first, however the gesture made her grin. She hugged him back, sad when he pulled away.

Tate led her out of the room and the two started back down the maze of hallways.

"I'm sorry I ruined the museum tour . . . thing," Autumn made an effort to apologize.

"You didn't ruin anything," Tate matched her relaxed pace step for step. "I'm just happy you're alright." They rounded a corner and Autumn could see her room ahead.

"Hey!" Clarke's voice rang. She clung to Tate's side, alarm clear in her expression. "Are you guys okay? I heard you were with Ezra, what happened?"

"Autumn fainted." Tate kept it short. Clarke looked as if she was concerned, even when it came to Autumn.

"Mind if I go? I'm sorry, but I . . ." Autumn didn't want to worry Tate with how awful she felt.

"Yeah of course, go ahead." Autumn smiled, stepping off. She could hear Clarke grilling into Tate, questioning him as to why Autumn had been brought into the museum.

Something smashed into Autumn, throwing her to the ground. She cried out in pain as her back smashed hard into the tile. Someone leapt on top of her; she didn't recognize them.

The woman held back her fist, jamming it into Autumn's side. She screeched in agony as the woman repeated the action. Autumn didn't realize until the third time she cried out that she was calling for Tate.

Clarke ripped the woman off of Autumn and flung her against the wall. Tate scooped Autumn up in his arms and charged toward her room.

Tate kicked open the door and practically leapt inside. He shut it and set Autumn down on the bed in one quick swift motion.

"Are you okay?" His hands planted themselves on her cheeks, forcing her to gaze into his eyes. Autumn could barely see him, her vision blinded by tears. Autumn tried to keep her composure, attempted to be strong.

But she couldn't do it.

Burying her head in Tate's chest, she began to sob.