[Author's Note: Basically, don't kill me, but this is an idea that suddenly sparked when I was talking to a friend of mine. What if Marvel and ROTG collided? Basically, this is the story of Jack Frost if he would have been created had he been created by Marvel. PLEASE leave lots of reviews! It may shape how the story continues.~ ]
•~• CHAPTER ONE: FROM BLOOD TO ICE •~•
SHIELD had a mission, and while many times it was misguided, that mission was to keep the citizens of Earth safe. How could they do that though, with so many new abnormals appearing on the very streets they fought to protect? Fury had spent hour after hour pondering the devastation that laid through Manhattan. The group of Avengers proved their worth against Loki, but what if the opposing force grew to something more powerful than a vengeful god? It seemed nearly impossible, but the vastness of space managed to hide many secrets from view... along with enemies.
The tense figure continued to sit at his desk, staring mindlessly at the paper order before him with a single good eye. The other of course, was hidden by a patch of leather, and while it certainly obscured the injured orb, it failed to hide the scars that cut across his dark skin with inky lines. His steepled fingers bounced slightly against his lips, running every scenario of this project through his head. Was he so scared of the unknown that he was going to actually subject a teenage boy to go through a process that paralleled that of the famous Captain America? Oh, Banner would have his head if he were to ever find out. Then again, if all went to plan, only a select few would ever know of this experiment's existence. ...if he even survived the procedure. Glancing up towards the ceiling, the eerie silence was broken by a long sigh. "Well, I'm going to hell anyhow. What's another reason?" His low voice mumbled before turning back to the neatly assorted folder. Taking up a rollerball, the head of SHIELD penned his name on the solid line near the bottom. That was it. Project: Deep Freeze was to go into immediate effect.
A tall lanky man, who had been other wise unmoving, suddenly pulled himself from the wall and walked towards the large desk. Bearing a short haircut and sideburns, in the dim light Fury could have almost mistook the newest agent for Coulson, which only caused his heart to twinge with regret. That was why they built weapons. The man with the biggest gun could prevent innocent death. He just had to make sure that he was that man. "Give this to Dr. Remons. He's to be the head of this experiment." The director issued the command in his same collected tone, lifting the collection of papers towards the other. With a small nod, the agent took hold of the piece of legislation and removed himself from the room.
And that was how it began. The very first mention of creating a boy who could use ice as a means of attack. A young, yet immortal soul that was to be known only as Frost.
The boy that was brought into the lab that day looked like any other teen. He had fairly long floppy brunette locks that were clearly in need of a trim, and chocolate eyes that looked out with innocent wonder. The Doctor couldn't believe that someone could be so inspired even while facing their possible death. Then again, considering the hoops that SHIELD had jumped through to get him—it wasn't that unbelievable. For the boy of only eighteen had a sister at home. One that was dying of heart failure and needed a donor within the week in order to remain among the living. The rather mature individual who turned out to be her brother had offered his very life to SHIELD so long as they made sure a replacement heart was issued before he gave up his will to a government organization.
All had gone accordingly, and as the boy was shuffled into the room, hands bound behind his back in case his mind swayed, a little girl hours away was going through a surgery to receive her new heart.
Dr. Remons would have offered a word of greeting to the individual, but found that it was probably inappropriate to speak to a patient, and so he instead issued orders to the team that was to assist with the risky procedure. The child was brought towards the center of the white-washed room, where a metal rectangle just big enough to fit him had been embedded into the floor. The pathologist looked up to his lab rat and saw that wonder melt away to fear. It was obvious that regret was setting in. Remons almost felt sympathy, but shook his head to clear away such distracting thoughts.
According to the pre-issued sequence, which was all sprawled onto the surrounding white boards, the boy was lowered into the chrome bathtub and latched down with metallic clamps. A single tear rolled down the teen's cheek as he began to visibly tremble. The team in turn showed only a hint of kindness and administered a powerful sedative. But, as cruel as it was, he had to be conscious for the whole ordeal. A group of seven individuals then bustled in activity, snatching a variety of colored tubing from the lab table, and plucking the ending needles into his freckled skin. He winced with every prick, but did not cry out in pain. He had to do this. For his sister. The last thing that he remembered seeing was that lead doctor, Remons, leaning over the edge to place some sort of gel masking over his eyes. The trembling only increased as he could no longer watch the horrors they had planned, but as another round of serum was pumped into his veins—his body fell to a still.
Once all the initial feeds were in place, a few larger hoses were pressured into his chest. It was in response to that a whimper broke through his lips. At this point, he almost hoped for death to bring a swift end to this nightmare. Yet, it was not over. Far from. A lid to this small metal lined container was lowered from the ceiling above, it's bottom lined with what looked like fluorescent light, but was instead filled with foreign materials that made them glow an eerie blue color. It descended on two chain link pulleys until clamping hard over the seal. No longer could the patient be seen, and step three was now set to begin. All of the associates moving towards the long lab table, where the multi-colored tubes found their homes, they watched eagerly for Remons to give them a command. The doctor, staying by the head of the tank throughout the horrific experiment, raised his hand in the air without giving them a second glance. It then dropped back to his side. A signal to the crew to release to stops in the vats of liquid, and allow the green syrup to trail through the near transparent tubes towards the poor trapped individual. The whole room hushed into silence as they watched, waiting until the whole line was filled with the substance before tiptoeing back to the center. Two medics made their way cautiously to the opposite end as the doctor, and uncapped a square portal in the lid. It was time for the compartment to be flooded with none other than liquid nitrogen.
A large cylinder tank was rolled from the room's corner, with a nozzle that was positioned over the holed metal. All of them gave a uniform moment of silence over their patient, just in case he never saw another day before releasing the pressurized nitrogen. A hiss filled the room as a cascade of mist spiralled from the release, hiding the mysterious water-like chemical that poured in and surrounded the boy below. Within minutes the whole area was occupied with the frigid mist, heeding even more mystery to the boy's fate.
Luckily, though, the experiment had gone without fault and no lives were lost. Within hours, the same team that had practically frozen the poor thing alive, were prying him from his metal prison, and getting him onto a gurney. From there, the child who had now gained the name 'Frost' was taken into processing. His old clothing, now crusted with frozen bits of water, were cut from his form and he was clad in specialized SHIELD apparel. Which, pretty much consisted of a iridescent light-blue t-shirt and shorts. Written across the fabric that covered his right shoulder was printed in block letters his code. After all, he was merely a piece of property now.
[ 027563 FROST ]
But, the change in clothing was not the only difference in his physical appearance. While undergoing the 'upgrade' his brunette locks had taken to a glistening white. Once he finally regained consciousness, it was also apparent that his chocolate irises had been morphed into the clearest hue of blue. With lighter streaks that seemed to hint that of a snowflake buried within those confused eyes.
Oh, and Frost was certainly confused. He had no memory of the any event prior to his reawakening in SHIELD's infirmary. That had not been a fluke, though. The doctor had made strict arrangements to wipe away the boy's mind. It made him more malleable to them, and easier to turn into his desired purpose: a weapon.
However, all of that had been weeks ago. Since then, Frost had been ushered through drill after drill. While he threw out strings of questions towards the labcoats that ran his activities, very few were answered. The poor thing didn't know where he was, why he was there, or if he was ever going to leave. Instead, there were only two things that the child knew without hesitation:
One. My name is Frost. 027563 Frost to be exact. Only humans have first and last names.
Two. I am not human. I am an experiment who can create frost, and cause storm clouds to form.
This day had been like any other, jostled from bed at an hour far too early to agree with him, and shoved into training. From there he was fed some substance from a tube, and the pushed into an even larger room for the many tasks he was forced to perform. Anyone else would have complained, and insisted that the treatment was cruel. But Frost knew no better, and figured that since he was less than the humans around him it must be his existence to serve. So, there came no refutes as a massive snow cloud was conjured over the boy's head.
Finally, at the end of the day, all the lab coats took their exit and Frost was left alone in the blinding white space. His head lowered towards his chest, but made no movement. Someone would be along to fetch him shortly, and instruct him to his sleeping quarters. Little did he know that this time it would not be the stark agent he was use to, but rather a new face...
The intern.
