Among the Asgardians (deleted scenes)

Antigone: The prologue to my second book.

The blond-haired, green-eyed teenager sat in his workshop. It was a cold, February day, perfect to spend in here where it was warm, in the midst of all the machines. The machines were not his, no matter how much he wished they were. They were given to him by a man he thought to be his friend. Once, in his youth, he had trusted the man known as Tony Stark to save the world. Instead, he had created a monster.

Iron Man Gone Bad!!! Screamed the headlines. Tony Stark Creates a Monster!!!

The boy, Harley was his name, did not quite know what to make of the monster they called Ultron. It baffled him that his hero would create something so evil. It had a huge affect on Harley. Therefore, he had devoted his work to making security devices to protect a suit from software viruses, like the glitch that created Ultron.

"Brutus! You get in here right now!" his mother shouted from inside the house. Harley hated his first name. Who would name their kid something like Brutus? His mother told him it had been his father who had named him, but Harley wasn't so sure. His father had left when he was six with the words, "There's something off about that kid."

Harley knew deep down that something was wrong with him. His childhood had been faster than usual. He had grown faster than all the other kids and had skipped several grades in school due to his advanced IQ. At age 16, he graduated high school  and now he was awaiting the start of his first semester of college in September of that year.

"Coming, mom!" he shouted, putting down the screw driver and the small, circular piece of metal he'd been working on. It looked an awful lot like a miniaturized arc reactor.

As he walked through the breezeway to go to the house, he spotted a car in the driveway. A bright yellow Bugatti. Shaking his head, he knew that could only mean one thing. As he entered the kitchen, he knew his worst fears were confirmed. At the head of the table, the place where a father should sit, was Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist... and mass murderer.

He noticed a young woman sitting to his left. She couldn't have been more than twenty-three. Her hair was almost the same shade of honey blond as him and her eyes were a deep purple. They looked strangely familiar.

"Harley," Tony said, gesturing to the chair on his right as Harley's mother began to set food on the table: spaghetti, Harley's favorite.

"What are you doing here," he hissed. "And who's that?"

"Sweetie, you may want to sit down," his mother cautioned. Her brown eyes were full of concern and she tucked her auburn hair behind her ears.

"Why?" Harley asked. "Why did you let him in the house? And who are you supposed to be?" he asked gruffly, turning to the mysterious woman who looked oddly familiar, as if he had seen her in his dreams.

She hadn't stopped staring at him since he'd entered the room, and there was a small smile on her face, but her eyes were slightly teary, as if she was crying tears of joy.

"I'm Kathryn Coulson," she whispered.

"What are you doing here?" Harley asked, turning his gaze to Tony.

"We're here to talk to you, Harley," Tony said, helping himself so the spaghetti. He put some on Kathryn's plate, but her gaze never shifted from Harley. It was starting to creep him out. Piling spaghetti on his own plate, Harley took a bite, letting the flavors fill his mouth and caress it gently, arousing his taste buds and stimulating his senses.

"Talk to me about what?" he asked, swallowing his spaghetti.

"You had an unusual childhood, Harley," Kathryn said. "You grew faster than the other kids. You're smarter than them too. And stronger. You can run faster than them."

"How do you know?" Harley asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I know almost everything about you, Harley. You have more muscle than you know what to do with. But you would never use it to inflict pain. You find yourself doubting your humanity because of your powers. And you can hear and transmit thoughts from other people," she said, smiling happily.

"Now that's just scary," Harley asked. "Who the hell are you, and how do you know me?"

"I... I'm your mother," she stuttered. Dark spots appeared in Harley's vision as he fell to the floor.