Trudging through the sea of scattered leaves that blanketed the sidewalks of Hell's Kitchen, Matt was enjoying the last warm day of autumn before temperatures started to take a plunge. The trees were now bare, a true tell by Matt from registering that the crisp leaves were rustling below his feet instead of from branches above. It was a radiant seventy five degrees outside and not a cloud in the sky on an early November day. The wind was rather blustery, causing the occasional leaf to be picked up and brush across his face with a sporadic gust of wind; however, he did not allow that to dampen his mood. It was Matt's day to pick up Grace from school, since Karen was working late conducting interviews with some acquaintances of the target of interest in her investigation. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather, he ultimately decided to forgo the cab ride and walk home with his daughter instead.

"Honey, stay close," the concerned father exclaimed to his seven-year-old daughter who strayed a couple of feet too far away from comfort. She was wholeheartedly caught up in a game of her own imagination's design - one which consisted of treating clumps of crisp leaves as hopscotch squares on the pavement. The crackling of leaves echoed through the street and accompanied her giddy laughter which fell quiet after jumping one final time, obeying her father as she scurried back to him.

As a peace offering to appease her troubles, Matt handed over a large red slushy that he had been carrying while she played. They had purchased it as an after school treat from their favorite bodega which was conveniently stationed halfway on their way home from school. "You want your slurpee back?" He shook the paper cup slightly with the contents inside sloshing around the walls on the verge of melting from the time spent stagnant in the heat. "Yes please!" She eagerly snatched it out of his grip and began happily sipping the frosty beverage loudly through the straw with a grin growing on her face. The sweet cherry syrup was undoubtedly staining her lips, teeth, and tongue deep red which she surprisingly finished in record time. He halted under the awning of a newsstand, sensing his daughter tense up.

"Ow-" her nose and forehead crinkled simultaneously in discomfort, "Brain freeze," she painstakingly stated with squinted eyes, trying to pull through the moderate inconvenience.

Matt snickered unobtrusively, but soon afterwards rubbed her shoulder to ease her brief stint of suffering, hoping she'd learn the important life lesson to take her time and enjoy things in moderation.

Her headache passed only after needing a minute or two to recover. "All done," she had returned to her normal bubbly self and proudly raised the now empty cup above her head to showcase her latest achievement.

"Ok little miss-world-record, let's get you home." Matt nudged her forward, ushering them back onto the open sidewalk. Just as the duo was about to make their first step out from under the shady covering, he hastily grabbed her left wrist which was swinging by her side and reeled her to the other side of the path behind him. He had successfully re-adjusted her course to avoid a near collision with a runner who had turned the corner too fast to recognize the additional bodies suddenly emerging.

The runner continued their trek after spouting a quick apology in passing, but the newspaper stand shopkeeper stood there with his mouth dropped in awe, wonderstruck after witnessing what had miraculously happened. He failed to notice the handful of tabloids which had slipped out of his hands and fallen onto the pavement. Grace, however, did and turned around to collect the loose disarrayed pages in a neat pile before offering them back to the man. "Here you go, sir," she stated politely.

Matt was taken aback by his daughter's act of kindness, Karen and him had raised such a thoughtful and well mannered little girl. The shopkeep snapped out of his astonishment and directed his gaze downwards at the child looking up at him with a glint in her eye. Matt released a huff of air out in relief. His daughter had broken any train of thought the man had been rationalizing the disputable fast reflex attributes of a blind man. Taking the magazines from Grace with an appreciative smile, he thanked her and turned around to place them back in their display which he'd been restocking. Front and center displayed on the cover was the bold red headline reading - 'Daredevil strikes again! Sources suggest incoming induction into the Avengers' with a blurry photograph shot on a phone of the costumed horned figure bounding across a rooftop in the middle of the night. If Matt was blessed with sight and was able to see the wall of tabloids adorned with his image selling like hot cakes, he'd surely scoff at the blatantly false statement and the unflattering picture which accompanied it.

The journey continued on and their walk slipped back into normalcy after that exciting bout. Grace had cautiously stuck close to her father, and remained nearby for the rest of the time - on guard for another close encounter; however, her watchful disposition wasn't all for naught. As they neared the apartment building, she yelped as a flying object whizzed past. Out of pure instinct, Grace ducked down and pulled her father with her. In his crouched position, Matt appreciated the thoughtful consideration of his daughter looking out for him, but he was well aware of the ball that had been hit by five boys playing a game of baseball in the alleyway next to their building complex. Unlike his daughter, Matt had shown absolutely no reaction. This was partly due to keeping up with appearance in public (not wanting to repeat what had occurred only but fifteen minutes ago with the jogger), but also he confidently anticipated that there was a negligible chance that they'd be considered targets. Sure, the ball was in decent proximity to the duo; however, a gust of wind had blown the ball off course about ten feet to the right of their heads, which was something that his daughter had largely misjudged.

"Whew, that was close," Grace admitted while rising back upwards from her hunched position. She slicked her hair back with her sticky, red slurpee stained fingers in an attempt to straighten out and fix the knotted mess of brown locks strewn across her face from mother nature's windy disturbance.

Following suit, Matt brushed off the top of his head as well, "Quick thinking, sweetheart, I think you saved us!," he gave her many thanks which filled her with self pride as she shyly smiled at the compliments that her father was showering her with. "I think it's due time we head inside, don't you think?" He gestured his arm outwards, not wanting to wait any longer and be caught up in another violent breeze.

Grace assertively grabbed hold of her father's coarse hand, one still healing from bruises acquired from last night's illicit activities, and they safely crossed the street. After making it to the other side, just before reaching the steps into the entrance doorway, Grace caught a glimpse of the source of the projectile. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace acknowledged the boys who were a couple years older than her from their apartment complex and some others from the neighboring building who were resuming their game of baseball in the alley. She stared at them, peeved at their blatant lack of respect for the safety of others; however, on the other hand, she couldn't quite help but wish to be included in the fun they were having from the sounds of laughter that bounced off the brick and mortar walls.

"What's for dinner?" Grace, evidently ravenous, had inquired as soon as they entered the apartment. "Where's mom? Do you want to play go-fish? Can I have a popsicle?" Matt hadn't yet gotten the opportunity to take off his shoes and coat yet before he was bombarded by her relentless inquiries. Just as fast as she was asking, he had fired answers back to quiet her restless mind. "Mom will be back in an hour or so, she's going to bring subs back from the deli uptown. And, no, you cannot have a popsicle now - we don't want to ruin your dinner. Also, go-fish will have to wait after you complete your homework." He was stern and direct with his words. Usually Grace was accustomed to getting on her father's sweet side and having her wishes be granted, after all - she was a complete daddy's girl. However, he had a long day at the office and did not want to be on the receiving end of his wife's wrath if she discovered their daughter was not finished with her schoolwork upon her return.

Grace grunted while crossing her arms unamusingly. Her temper was crawling its way out of her skin as she stood staring at her father hoping he'd give in."Okay, fine." She stomped off to her room after realizing that he was not going to budge.

He hated witnessing her upset at him, but understood that it was for the greater good and that she would warm back up to him in no time. Taking a seat on the couch, he pulled out his laptop from his messenger bag and popped in one earbud to start an episode of a true crime podcast that Karen had got him hooked on. Grace emerged from her room after twenty minutes, and seemingly her fit of grumpiness had surpassed. "Daddy, can you help me with my reading workbook?" She sat on her knees on the floor hunched over the booklet on the coffee table. Grace was an average reader, but she usually relied on parental assistance for help with some of the tougher words. Matt readily came to her aid as he closed his laptop and slid down from the couch onto the floor to a spot beside her. His closeness was encouraging and she smiled flipping the pages to the chapter she was assigned to read.

Listening closely, he was fully engaged with the story of the unusual friendship between a brown bear and a blue bird on an adventure in the woods that his daughter read aloud - until it was his turn to help move the story along. Grace paused every so often upon approaching an unfamiliar word, looking to her father for help, she would spell out the word and Matt would use that and the context of the story to relay the correct pronunciation with an accompanying definition to solidify the new word in her vocabulary.

As she continued to muster through the assignment, fingers tracing the surface of the bound pages following along with each sentence, Matt found himself drowning out the noise emanating from the carefree kids on the street below to direct his focus completely on her. The insistent sound resonating off the baseball bat was like clockwork, as it swung in the air colliding with the ball, but he effortlessly managed to brush it off as white noise. The same could not be said for his daughter who's gaze strayed to the adjacent window in sync with each hit, causing both her inquisition and her heart rate to spike with interest. She finished her reading in a rush, eager to be done, and closed the booklet with pleasure. Grace couldn't shake off her impulse to join in on the game outside, deep in contemplation about asking her father for permission - unsure if it would be worth it or not.

She summoned her last drop of confidence, rolling out her strained shoulders, and spoke out. "Da- daddy, can, can I," she stammered then paused in deliberation, pondering if she should drop it.

He raised his eyebrows in speculation, "Yes, honey?" he questioned while shifting his legs from under the table which were slowly becoming numb.

"Would it be ok if I played baseball with the kids downstairs?" There, she said it. No going back now. All that was left to do was to continue to hold her breath in anticipation.

Matt hesitated, feeling his watch for the time, discovering that it was nearing five in the afternoon - which was when his wife was supposedly returning. Figuring it would be a while longer before dinner, he came to the conclusion that it would be best to let her get some energy out and enjoy the final day of nice weather, so he reluctantly agreed.

"Yay! Thank you thank you thank you," she clingned onto him, bursting out with excitement. In a flash, she bounded towards the front door, hastily struggling to put on her shoes while hopping on one foot.

Matt got up and followed closely to supervise her departure. "Don't forget your windbreaker-" he pulled off the small jacket off the coat peg and guided her arms into it- "And make sure your shoelaces are tight - wouldn't want you tripping and missing out on a home run, now would we?"

"Got it, dad," she rolled her eyes infuriatingly, but ultimately heeded his advice and zipped the jacket up to her chest before turning her heels to the exit. With a sharp click of the latch of the door, followed by soft footsteps running down the steps, Grace was gone off on her merry way.

Matt leaned with his back to the door, torn between falling into the couch resuming his podcast that was previously interrupted halfway through or tuning in to his daughter who he picked up on just now approaching the boys. Cocking his head in indecisiveness, his restless feet had the final say and decided for him. They carried the apprehensive father up the staircase and out the roof access hatch to get a clearer picture of the goings down below.

Perching on the roof's edge, keeping a stable stance in position right above the alleyway where the game was taking place, Matt tuned in to the conversation on the street beneath his feet.

Grace timidly walked over to the scene of the game, posing as an captivated observer at first, since the boys were in the middle of a run. However, when it was time for players to switch positions, she jumped at the opportunity to assert herself into joining in.

"Excuse me, hey! Would it be okay if I played with you guys - please?" She had stepped off the sidewalk and entered the makeshift baseball diamond out of ragged towels acting as base plates on the alleyway pavement. The boys seemed to ignore her, as they did nothing to pause their conversations and movement.

"Hello! Can you hear me!" This time she shouted and stomped her foot impatiently. Suddenly all backs which were previously facing her twisted around to investigate the disturbance clearly directed at them. Once all eyes were on her and mouths were shut silent, Grace let out a devious smile - she had successfully commanded their attention.

The taller boy with messy black hair, who must have been the oldest, was the first to respond. He stepped off of the pitcher's plate and stubbornly made his way over to the small girl who had so rudely interrupted their game.

"What did you say?" the boy said with a snarl. He was so close, standing basically right over her that she could feel his heavy breath on her head.

Grace gulped, teetering between showing her uneasiness or not letting her fear get the best of her. "I asked if I could play in your game. Can I please join you guys?" She stood her ground and remained polite even in the presence of the other kids' harsh judgment and discrediting sneers.

"You, play baseball with us? Hmpf, as is. Girls can't play." His sour words stung and left a bitter taint in the air as he bounced the bat that he had carried over with him into the palm of his hand in a threatening manner.

Maybe the crude boy would think twice and change his degrading demeanor towards the young girl if he knew that her father aka Daredevil was listening in and a moment's notice away on the rooftop above. Up top, Matt curled his itching fingers, balling them up into fists to silence them in the shelter of his jacket pockets - gearing up to potentially intervene if things went south below. He knew all too well how cruel and spiteful little boys could be from his own experiences growing up in the orphanage. Some old wounds from his childhood were harder to heal than the physical ones he receives nightly dawning the horned cowl.

He was about ready to catapult from the high elevation to settle the altercation and give them a stern talking to. He wouldn't let anyone treat his little girl like that.

"So you think a girl like me can't keep up with you - let's prove it then. Try me." She forcibly took the wooden bat from his grip and huffed with agitation.

Matt's hands recoiled upon hearing his daughter's courageous charge and felt relief wash over him which allowed him to relax and ease up. He cracked his neck, which began to grow tense from craning outwards.

As Matt proudly witnessed the scene below, he almost missed his wife calling out his name from inside. Dumping a greasy brown paper bag of subs on the counter, she scanned the apartment, shocked to be welcomed home to an empty apartment. She had arrived home, albeit a tad later than expected, and dove straight into worry - wondering where both her husband and daughter were. 'They should've been home by now.'

Following her reporter's inclination, Karen ventured up the roof access and was pleased to discover her husband posed with one foot stationed on the roof curb keenly peering out to the city on the horizon. She was still unaware of her daughter's whereabouts as they had just missed each other in passing.

Giving his wife the benefit of the doubt, he allowed her to 'sneak' up on him as he remained vigilant standing guard. She was unconvinced this was the case, knowing that his senses were too calibrated to dismiss her presence, but remained on a slow and steady path to Matt.

"You managed to lose our daughter?" She whispered in his ear and joked after slipping her arms around him from behind. A thrill shot up his spine as she began to nuzzle her head in the crook of his neck.

"You really have that little faith in me, Miss Page?" he questioned, not believing for a second of her underestimating his capabilities.

"Not in the slightest," she squeezed her arms tighter around his muscled torso, "But, really, what's up. Where is she and why are you out here brooding?"

Clearing up his wife's suspicions before she jumped to any more outlandish conclusions, he calmly explained the situation to her and confessed that he'd been watching over their daughter playing with the other local kids below and gave a recap of what had happened, catching her up to speed.

"I am just making sure she's ok down there," he gave this weak excuse to justify his eavesdropping. She eventually released her arms and gave him room to breathe.

Matt didn't understand why his explanation induced a stifled laugh from her, but it did. "Oh my God. You are the textbook case of a helicopter parent. I mean come on, Matt, don't you think you're being somewhat overprotective here?"

Sure, to others, it could be considered atypical for a father to use his super hearing abilities to 'spy' on his kid, but he was just an overly concerned parent just looking out for his daughter's well being. He did not find it comical when she went further and made the connecting observation that he had his own helicopter roof pad to assist in his endeavors. Deep in her rant, Karen began pacing back and forth on the roof's surface, going on about establishing some boundaries for him and explaining the benefits of letting Grace learn how to navigate some of life's problems by herself, but Matt wasn't listening to absorb any of his wife's suggestions.

"Wait," he hushed her from voicing her next emerging thought, recognizing that Grace was about to step up to the plate.

Down below, Grace lifted the bat up with both hands in conviction, bent her knees and shifted her back until she felt comfortable in her stance. "Ready whenever you are," she licked her lips, locking down the challenge with assertive glare at those who doubted her.

"Sure thing, princess," he scoffed. Committed to proving his point, the pitcher, who was the obvious ring leader of the group, kicked the leafs up from under his feet, leant down, wound up then fired off a speed ball.

Letting out the shaky breath she was holding in to suppress her nerves along with a silent prayer, Grace pulled the bat back stout against her shoulder blade and let it loose as she swung with full force.

She had closed her eyes mid swing in hopes that her skills and a sprinkle of blind luck would take over and carry her through. When she had opened them she looked to the sky, wondering how far she managed to hit it; however, to her dismay, her game of I-spy was abruptly interrupted by a forceful tap on her shoulder from behind. It was the catcher who directed her attention into the palm of his leather glove which had engulfed the baseball she thought she had knocked out of the park.

Her facial features retracted as she discarded her revels in victory to let out a sorrowful pout, disappointed in her first effort to show these boys what she could really do. It did not help the matter that the team of bullies bursted out laughing in cahoots at her failed attempt.

She gripped the bat tighter, feeling overwhelmingly suffocated by their antagonizations. Just as she was about to admit defeat and walk away from embarrassing herself yet again, she recalled something that her father had told her a while back - Murdocks often get knocked down, but they always find the strength to pick themselves back up.

With his voice echoing these words of encouragement in her head, a raging fire began to light up inside her. Not letting the boy's to get the best of her, she planted her feet firmly in determination as the loose asphalt settled underneath the soles of her tennis shoes. "Three strikes and I am out right?-" she fearlessly raised her head up to ask. With the confirmation of the pitcher's single condescending nod, she made another bold statement- "Then let's go again."

"You hear that boys? She wants another round. Better look alive for another strike out," he sarcastically chastised upon receiving the ball from the catcher and throwing it up in the air a couple of times for good measure.

If it weren't for Karen reeling him in, Matt would be struggling to succumb to temptations and repel down the walls as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen to give the little heathens a well needed lesson.

'Come on, baby, you can do this' Matt sent out his well wishes into the wind that brushed across his lips as the ball left the pitcher's glove once more.

Heart pounding, tongue out in pure focus, she settled up to the plate once more. Learning from her previous mistakes, Grace made sure to keep her eye on the ball the entire time. Trusting her judgment she gave it all she had and released the bat.

Matt's face lit up as the crack of the wood fibers splitting within the bat rang inside his ears upon impact. There was no doubt that it was a sure hit - dead on. "That's my girl-" pumping his fist in triumph, he was ecstatic that she showed those kids up. "She did it!" he exclaimed, pride swelling out of his chest as he turned around and hugged his wife who reciprocated his joy.

If only they could see their daughter's eyes grow in amazement at her feat - widening almost at the same rate as the onlooking boys had gaped their mouths in awe as they twisted their necks to the sky following the trajectory. Grace was too shocked to start running to first base, her mind was so preoccupied with excitement that it was incapable of sending signals to her feet to move.

Matt gritted his teeth in anticipation of hearing some disgruntled protests and claims of a lucky one time hit to dismiss his daughter's achievements; however instead a loud shattering sound had pierced his senses like a knife.

"Don't tell me," Karen hissed, dreading to discover the truth of what was behind the sound that had shaken up most every witness outside. She didn't need his confirmation to prove her deduction correct. But, it was always nice to be assured - the ball had indeed smashed straight through the window of an apartment in the adjacent building.

Seconds later from the window shattering, Matt and Karen both jumped out of their skin at Grace's blood curdling scream. "Daddy!" She had dropped the bat on the pavement and bolted so quickly that the boys hadn't even had the chance to flee the scene to dodge the blame.

His wife patted him once on the back. "Smart of her to lawyer up," she wistfully remarked with a smirk. He emitted a short reluctant sigh before both of them raced downstairs to intercept their frantic daughter. This was going to be an interesting conversation to approach their not-so-lucky neighbor about - although, nothing the auspicious duo of Matt and Karen Murdock couldn't handle.