This was originally to be two chapters...but I meshed them together because they're both short anyway...

First one Mark is eight, then in the second one he is sixteen from the time he just got back from Ross (February) to June.

To say Markus was not expecting waking up to a little, wet, black nose sniffing all over his face would be exactly right. The little, wet, black nose had a mouth and a tongue too, and that little, wet, pink tongue just loved to lick said face.

"Alright alright, enough from you." He pushed the little dog away from his face towards the edge of the bed, and pulled himself into a sitting position. No one else was in his room, which was not uncommon, but a random black puppy on his bed was.

The puppy started to whine at him, not appreciating being pushed away. "What? What do you want?" Mark asked if, no reason in particular. It started wag its little tail, crawling over the covers towards him again, bounding up to his lap and his paws on Mark's chest. It was cute. Fluffy black fur with one little white paw. The pup licked his face once more, tail still wiggling. "Where'd you come from?"

"A box on the corner of the street." Bruce's voice suddenly sounded from the doorway. "She was your Mom's idea." He gave him a small smile and went to sit . "Happy Guesstimate Birthday."

This was a thing the Bruce did. When they first found Markus, doctors guessed he might be only one week old. And every year, on December seventeenth, Bruce would get him a small thing with a 'happy guesstimate birthday' note attached. A few nights ago Darcy found a box with a 'free puppies' sign on it. Of course she originally planned to take all of them, which ended up with Bruce explaining that Newfoundland pups grow up to be a standing height of about six feet and he really didn't want five of those in the house. So they settled with the smallest of the littler, dropping the rest off at a shelter.

"What do you want to name her?"

The eight year old pondered for a minute. "Mara."

"You sound pretty confident."

"She looks like a Mara." Bruce left it at that. The sat in silence for a few moments before Mark smirked up at his father. "You and Mom sure find the best stuff on the street."

Bruce smiled, pulling his son close into his side. "Yes we do."

Not that he would tell anyone, but this was pretty cool. Marcus has not told anyone else but Thor about the god who visited him. Nor has he told anyone about how there was a time after Ross, where he swore his skin turned a shade of blue. If only for a moment.

The teen decided to embrace it, rather than to fight it. It was just genetics, right? He heard Loki could do all this stuff, why not he? He asked for his bed to be by his window while he was recovering. The flesh seemed to turn again when it was near the cold, and, it being February during the time, it was perfect to practice. Keep busy. Most of the time it was just Mark and his dog, Mara, in his room, the tutor he had been issued (he was also determined not to repeat the tenth grade just because he missed almost half of a semester) was only around four days a week.

It went rather slowly in the beginning. Mark would press his palm up to glass and feel the coldness, invite it in, and his fingertips would turn the shade of blue they like did before. More of this and his whole hand, then lower arm, biceps, shoulder, and even his neck all in those first few days. It was strange to let this coldness into his body. It would be freezing the first second, so cold he thought his blood froze, then the shade came it was almost like the cold was never there. After only two weeks, he could control the cold through his whole body. Without even having to touch the window.

It was amazing once he could do it. He felt the cold go through his veins to his feet, all throughout his legs and the muscles, he could feel the damaged ones differently than the formed ones. Some were almost like they were missing entirely. His heart was the weirdest part, the cold had it slow down, like it didn't to pump as much blood as without the freezing veins. At first Mark panicked when his heart slowed, had the cold go away immediately, unfreezing his blood and having the warm was come rushing back.

And that was on the inside, the theory Mark came up with was that the blue skin was like an adaptation to freezing. He was still working on the red iris. It wasn't long before the raven haired boy learned to form frost on the window. He got to ice crystals, and eventually was able to freeze room temperature water in a glass. After about a month and a half, he could even control the color of skin when he froze other things. He started to cheat during recovery, freezing the damaged and deformed muscles so they would heal faster, be stronger.

On the lazy days, when it was getting warmer and he was getting better, Mark would shuffle outside to the balcony, sometimes in a wheelchair, others with a only a can if he felt stronger. He'd sit down on a chair with Mara always by him, and see if the cold would come back without the help of winter temperatures. Sometimes it did, others it didn't. When he was lucky enough to rein control of that cold, there wasn't really much he could do with it. Only put frost on the railing or encase his mother's flowers in ice.

He was worried about her, Darcy. Ever since he got back, she had been, quiet. Darcy was not quiet. She was always moving, shifting, talking, bouncing, doing /something. She used to tell her son ridiculous stories when he was little. There were the usual one about princess and knights and dragons. Other ones were just weird, like talking cacti and that Mara was actually a flying dog that has laser eyes. Eventually Marcus grew out if it, and there were no more stories, she'd still be bouncy, happy Darcy though. The Darcy that would sing as loudly as she could, because she could.

Lately she had done no bouncing. Just went around the apartment, doing what needed to be done without a word, no singing. It wasn't that she was depressed, just..angry. Angry at Ross for hurting her son and angry at Bruce for blaming himself and even being angry at her own self because she couldn't do anything to help him. Darcy could only slowly pace the halls with Mark, he wouldn't let her help him unless he really needed it, he wouldn't even talk to her when he woke up in the middle of the night screaming. Even months after they got Mark back he was still terrified. And Darcy could do nothing.

Mark pretended not to hear her cry. He pretended not to hear Bruce trying to calm her down. This happened a lot in the beginning.

The tension died down when summer came. Everyone was let out of school and they were always with Mark now. Him and Phil and Peter would sometimes spend days at a time in the main den, just being boys again with the Halo and the COD and other things guys do. Abby and Amelia just dragged him outside, along with Mara and they'd mess around in the park or in the pool on the roof, just so Mark would at least get some sun on him. He started to forget about the frost giant part of him, only freezing the occasional pop when it got warm in the summer.

Things did get better, eventually.