Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own the Titans or Slade.

The young woman was suddenly awake. It was not the blissful bubbling up to consciousness that comes with a perfect night's sleep, or the drowsy, grudging awareness that follows a good nap. She simply opened her eyes without a moment's thought. A plain, off-white wall met her eyes in the bright light, and the black face of a cheap television mounted on the wall gazed dully back at the thin form lying on the bed. Where was she? She did not move or stir or raise her head from the pillow, eyes darting around in her narrow field of vision to assess her surroundings. The smell that greeted her nose with her first breath was astringent and harsh. There was something beeping beside her bed, and at the thought of it the sound was brought into the forefront of her brain. It had been beeping for some time, perhaps since she had opened her eyes. She flexed her hands and held them up an inch off of the bed. Wires and tape and tubes were wrapped around her wrists. They didn't' hurt, but they definitely went under the skin. She flexed her hands. Something inside them ached and felt cold, but it was a phantom pain that ceased when she ceased flexing them and let them fall, limp, onto the scratchy bedclothes.

The beige door on her right suddenly swung open and two people entered the room nearly at the same time. The younger man pushed past the older man and ran to her bedside, staring down at her with something akin to fascination. The older man made her less anxious and moved a bit slower, approaching the bed in a calmer manner and nodding down at her. He had glasses and a white coat on and her eyes flickered toward him instead of the younger person, whose features had smoothed out into a stoic mask.

"You're awake," the older man began with a smile, picking up an electronic chart at the foot of her bed and examining it as he took his glasses off, "Excellent. How are you feeling, Mrs. Wilson?"

They both looked down at her and her gaze flickered uncertainly between each one of them. Biting her lip, she tried to force her brain to form the words she needed. Why was it so hard?

"Who?" She asked quietly, her voice a raspy whisper that elicited surprised stares from both of the men in the room.

"Adeline," the younger one said sharply, leaning down and scrutinizing her face, "You don't recognize me?"

The man looking down at her was very blond, so blond that his hair was almost white in the light. He had vibrant, deep blue eyes—or rather, eye, and she shrank away from him and blatantly looked at the black patch of cloth where his right eye should have been. She couldn't tell how old he was. She shook her head as best she could and tried to move away from him, and as soon as he noticed he stepped back and let the other man approach her bed.

"Mrs. Wilson," the other man said slowly, "I'm Dr. Tarver, I've been your physician for the last couple of days. Your husband brought you in. I'm afraid you're suffering from some sort of retrograde amnesia"—

"My husband?" She interrupted him, staring back at the blank-faced man who was surveying her from the corner, who stepped forward as soon as he was mentioned.

"We're married, Adeline," he replied, reaching into the pocket of his non-descript black suit and pulling out a diamond ring that winked in the light.

"Do I have to go with him?" She asked the doctor, who hesitated and adjusted his glasses before her alleged husband shot him a fierce glare.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Tarver said quickly, "But not until"—

"She's fine," the younger man coolly stated, "I'll have her out of here in an hour."

"But—but I don't even know your name!"

"It's Slade," he said, pulling out his phone and glancing at the doctor as the man walked quickly out of the door.

Author's Note: I know, I'm terrible. But my computer died and it has all of the chapters from my other stories that are in progress on it. :S As soon as it's fixed I'll update everything else, I promise. In the meantime this came into my head.