Her hands shook in the darkness, as she tried to hold her breath, trying to stifle her whimpers as she pulled her knees closer to her chest. The rough texture of the clothes rubbed against her bruised and cut face, though she paid no mind to it. Her eyes met the dark oak doors of the closet that enclosed her in its protective yet confiding embrace. It was the sort of closet that had locks on the inside, at the bottom of each door, which she had fumbled to put lock. It was flimsy at best, but the only protection she had. She knew it wouldn't stop Him. It was to buy herself time at least. She held her only hope of salvation in her small hands, which trembled in fear, of what would happen if her hope failed. A crush white card lay next to her, and she listened in anticipation as the phone rang.

Please pick up

She pleaded. She prayed to the god she had long since stopped believing in, and she almost cried in relief when the phone picked up.

Phil had finally finished his job for the day, and exhaustion swept over him. It had been a long day, packed with meetings and as he jokingly called it babysitting a bored Agent Barton. He was currently with the tech experts of S.H.I.E.L.D and was finishing doing a search with them, before he was free to go for the day. However it was then that his phone decided to ring.

"Hello?" A silence followed from the line and he wondered if it was truly was Clint, however it was then that he heard a sniffle, followed by a soft voice.

"H-hello." The voice sounded like a child, a girl for that matter, and he instantly softened his voice, not wanting to frighten the girl anymore then she seemed to be, though he wondered why this girl was phoning him.

"Hey, is there something I can do for you" The girl was silent for another moment, before she shakily answered.

"y-you s-said I should c-call…i-if I n-needed h-help"

His eyes widened as he suddenly realised who this little girl was. A couple of weeks ago he had been in the streets of new York, on his break, when he had noticed a small girl, alone, which he found strange, as it was known for being well, not the safest place. No else seemed to notice her, as she had hidden herself by the entrance of an alleyway, but maybe feeling as though she was being watched she lifted her head, her chocolate eyes meeting his. He recognised the look in her eyes, but had never seen in it a child's eye. It was the look of a painful acceptance. They didn't glimmer in unexplainable happiness like that of most children. No this was the look he saw in field agent who had seen the cruelty of the world, it was the look of those who had lost something within themselves, which would probably never return. It was the look of having given up. He had carefully approached the girl, who had watched with her hollow eyes, her one eye coloured with the dark colouring of a bruise, made him frown slightly. Despite the hot weather she wore a dark long sleeved top and torn blue jeans. He bent down to her level, careful not to frighten the girl. Upon closer the inspection the girl was quite cute, with doe like eyes a petite nose. She would have looked cuter if it wasn't for her bruised soft skin or the skinny figure that was covered by her baggy clothes.

"Hey sweet heart, are you okay?" The girl had looked at him stunned for a moment, before she quickly looked away and had nodded quickly. He had expected this response but none the less smiled slightly at the girl. It was out of character for him, this much he knew, but always had a warm spot for children.

"You sure you're not lost?" The girl quickly nodded again, and frowned when he noticed the finger like bruises around the girl's small neck. He knew the signs he was seeing, but despite his job for the government, he couldn't go taking the girl into protective custody unless he had substantial evidence, or if the girl asked for help herself. However not wanting to just leave the matter, he fished out his business card.

"My names Phil, could you tell me what yours is?" He gave the girl the card who slowly took the piece of paper, and stared at it with suspicion.

"I shouldn't be speaking to strangers, sir" She finally spoke softly, and Phil nodded his head in agreement. At the least the girl had sense.

"That's right you shouldn't, but I'm a good guy sweetheart. "The girl looked like she didn't believe him, yet he continued.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay, especially since you look a little bruised."

Instantly the girl had tensed and her wavy brown locks turned into a shield as if to hide the bruise he had already seen.

"I-im fine" She had stuttered, and though he hadn't believed her for a second, he nodded.

"Well, if you say so, but if you ever need my help, you phone me okay?" Not giving the girl the chance to reply, he had walked away, hoping that she would seek out his help, and he felt her gaze follow him as he left…

When the days that followed he received no phone call, he felt dismayed knowing he hadn't been able to help her, but now he realised that he could help her this time.

"That's right sweetheart I did. "He heard smashing and yelling and he quickly wrote a note to one of the men in the room.

TRACE THIS .

The man was confused, but noticing the serious look on Phil's face he quickly complied as Phil continued to talk with the frightened girl. He needed her to stay on the line long enough to be traced.

"Is everything okay there?" The girl whimpered softly as another bang was heard.

"No. No it's not." She sniffled again "I'm s-sorry f-f-for b-o-o-othering you p-phil. B-but i-I'm s-s-cared"

Phil softly spoke to the girl, trying to calm her down.

"That's fine sweetheart, but can you tell me your name?"

"G-g-grace"

The small girl, Grace huddled into an even tighter ball as he name boomed from downstairs. Phil's soft voice helped slightly, but it didn't stave off the fear of being found. The fear of being punished.

"Grace, I can hear yelling, are you on your own? She couldn't hold back the tears that began to drip from her eyes as she heard him get louder and angrier.

"Sweetheart, I need you talk to me okay? Can you do that" She nodded shakily, despite knowing that he couldn't see her.

"Phil" She began softly. "Phil d-do y-you believe in h-heroes?"

Phil paused for a moment, and he thought back of the field agents who worked so hard to maintain public peace, but his thoughts mainly dwelled on the first real hero. Captain America, who had long since left this world, but none the less, left his heroic legacy behind.

"Yes, sweetheart. I do.I do believe in heroes"

Grace heard him on the landing now, his footsteps growing ever closer to the room she was hiding in.

"i-I-I n-need a h-hero p-phil. r-right now. Real b-bad" She cried softly into the phone, and Phil felt his chest ache for the scared yet, brave girl on the other end. She heard the door to the room slam open, and she whimpered in fear as his voiced boomed.

"GRACE YOU UGLY BRAT, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!"

Phil felt his anger rise at the man's voice.

"Grace, who is that?" She didn't reply.

Grace cried when the doors of the closet rattled.

He had found her.

"GET OUT OF HERE YOU LITTLE BITCH!

The doors rattled again

" no no" She whimpered softly, unable to respond to Phil's frantic questioning on the phone. And finally with a sickening crack, the weakly locked closet was opened, and she couldn't hold back her scream of terror as he grabbed her ankle, and ripped her away from safety. Her only connection to Phil dropping from her hands as it rested in her hiding place.

Phil felt himself panic when he heard her whimpers, turn into heart breaking screams, as she pleaded for her attacker to stop. He turned to the man, his name Max, tracing the call. Having heard the conversation, his eyes were full of horror as they met his.

"Tell me you've traced that call" He nodded quickly

"I have an address, its local" That was all he needed. Taking the written address, he ran out the room, the phone still by his ear, hearing her cry out in pain. It was the motivation he needed to move faster. He wouldn't let down this small girl, who had put what little hope she had left for the world in him. He would save her, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He'd found her. He'd broken into the run down home that lay on the outskirts of New York. He ran around the house. The Living room housed the man he believed had been responsible for the girl's terror, His work was apparently done, and he was passed out on the couch, surrounded by bottles of alcohol. He wanted to inflict that same pain on him, but he knew Grace would need him more, so with one last glare, he raced up the stairs, and opened the doors to each room, till he stumbled upon her. Tied to the bed, lay an unconscious, and beaten Grace. Her face bruised and covered in fresh blood, matched the rest of her beaten, tiny body. The white shirt she was shredded and bloody. Fearing he had been far too late, he was about to feel for a pulse, when she whimpered, and her eyes fluttered open, as tried to focus on Phil's face. And what made the stoic agent almost cry was what she said as he untied her hands. She had smiled softly at him although it looked more like a grimace, as she tried to keep her eyes open.

"Phil" She began "Heroes are real!" Phil held that strong little girl to his chest after that, holding her close, as she began to cry, in sadness or in joy. But none the less he carefully picked her up, and taking out of that hell hole, she had used to call home.