"When life's got you down, keep your head up... you can't see the ground anyway" -Nicole Rae.

Well, didn't that quote explain Matt Murdock's life exactly. The seventeen year old had been blind since he was but a child and he was glad for it, for the same toxic waste that had caused his permanent blindness had also given him a gift, the gift of fearlessness. His senses were enhanced beyond normal human capabilities, ranging in the super-human standpoint. That was why his trademark moves involved him diving off of buildings, cartwheeling off the sides of them with his guide stick clenched between his teeth, the usual. The name Daredevil kind of made sense when you thought about it. Just thinking about it usually made the teenager smile. He remembered the bullies who'd first given him that name as a cruel joke, 'Oh, let's pick on the nerdy kid!', just because he was smart and shy they assumed he was scared of the outside world, prompting the name Daredevil to be created. He'd surpassed them now, at least he liked to think he had.

The seventeen year old shifted nervously, prompting a squeaking noise from the leather couch he was sitting upon. He was in costume, in the middle of the Avengers Tower lobby and was almost biting his nails in his nervousness before berating himself. 'You're The Man Without Fear! Stop acting like a wuss!' But it didn't help, so he just smiled sheepishly and prayed that no one was looking his way. He'd just been accepted anyway, he should've been happy. Instead he was just waiting for them to come out like an overly excited teenage girl on prom night. Then when they did, Matt leapt to his feet, standing at attention in default mode. He began to slowly tap his feet, sizing up the man with his radar sense. He was tall, bald, broad shouldered, wearing a cape and an eyepatch. Then Matt felt dread in the pit of his stomach when he realized just how many weapons this man had on him, more then he could count on both hands.

Then the next five people who emerged were those he assumed to be the Avengers. The first man had tousled hair, a goatee, was dressed fairly casual in a t-shirt and jeans, there was also some kind of metal thing in his chest, so Tony Stark then. Then came a larger man with broad shoulders and stiff muscles, his posture just screamed innocence and nativity, dressed in a white shirt and slacks, Captain America. Right behind him came a three people, one of them was dressed in some otherworldly armor, Thor and two others, one a woman who was dressed in a bulletproof uniform of some kind, Black Widow, the other had a matching outfit and a bow slung over his back, Hawkeye. Then the last person to come out was a man with a slumped posture and a lab coat on, so Hulk's human counterpart. It was Tony who extended a hand towards Matt, which the young man accepted.

"Hey, Dar. I'm Tony Stark, you know Ironman? Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? You have to know who I am."

"Yeah, I know who you are. You're Tony, he's Captain America, he's Hawkeye, he's the human Hulk, she's Black Widow, and he's Thor. But I honestly have no idea who the hell he is."

Matt shrugged as he shook Tony's hand, motioning to each of the Avengers in turn, before finally pointing at Fury. The room was silent until Tony began to laugh and slung an arm over Matt's shoulder. The teen took the moment to grin and laugh along with Tony.

"I like this guy! That's Fury, ignore the giant stick up his ass."

"Tony! This isn't a good first impression!"

But the playboy, Billionaire, philanthropist, just shrugged and began to calmly argue with the good captain, leaving Matt just smiling awkwardly and being pulled into the conversations by other Avengers, he got a shy hello from human Hulk, who's name he learned was Bruce Banner, a loud introduction from Thor, who enveloped the blind teen in a strong armed hug and splintering squeeze, Matt instantly thought of Foggy. Foggy had been his childhood best friend, the only one to defend him against bullies. He hadn't seen him for a rather long time. If anything, Thor was exactly like Foggy, which made Matt instantly drawn to him. Then he met Clint, the Archer loved to laugh, that was something that Matt knew within the first few seconds with him. Then came Natasha, Black Widow and the first thing she told him off the bat was how many ways she could kill him with just a thumb-tack.

"So what's your real identity, Daredevil? Don't worry, we're all heroes here. Your name won't leave the room."

Steve Rogers, Captain America asked, a soft smile gracing his features and Matt just shrugged as he slowly pulled off his mask, exposing his short fluffy ginger hair, smooth pale skin and those chemically blurred, gray and sightless eyes that had shaped his life so much. It drew more silence from the room and Matt just smiled plainly.

"I'm Matthew Murdock, you can call me Matt."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Can you see? Because your eyes..they're so...off."

"Yeah, I'm blind."

They questions were shot at him from every corner and he tried to answer promptly. But when he did, the silence was back again and this time it had a quite concerned undertone to it. Matt could feel their heartbeats quicken in concern, it was a skill he had picked up quite quickly. Heartbeats were a telltale sign from the body, if it quickens it usually means that someone is stressed, concerned, worried or lying. If its slow then they're usually telling the truth. But he had to be careful not to focus on the heartbeat, if he did, the sound would overpower him.

"Where are your parents? You're only a minor."

"Well, Mom ditched us when I was a kid and Daddy kicked the bucket a few months ago."

Bruce was the only one who realized, Matt hadn't said 'Daddy' like it was a stupid and patronizing term. He'd said it, like that had been the thing he had actually called his father in life. Bruce was astounded by this blind teenager, he was so happy, like nothing was wrong even though his entire world was nothing but darkness and the kid was an orphan, where was he staying? Apparently he wasn't the only one with concerns because Steve immediately spoke up.

"Where are you staying?"

Matt bristled and winced at the collective concern and firmness of the question. How was he supposed to tell them that he lived in Hell's Kitchen? The most ghetto part of New York, the Bronx looked like a wonderful suburban neighborhood compared to Hell's Kitchen. So the teen just shifted nervously, trying to change the subject with silence, but nobody was buying it so he just sighed and came clean like he usually did.

"My old man's joint in Hell's Kitchen."

"Hell's Kitchen?! Kid, do you wanna get shanked?"

That was Clint's answer and he could tell by the ever bringing silence from the heroes, that they didn't know what Hell's Kitchen was. Good for them. He would've left Hell's Kitchen a long time ago, (I mean, come on, there were containers of toxic waste on the street!), but keeping his Daddy's boxing ring in working order meant a lot to him. That was where they had shared a lot of their best times, that was where they had made their promises to get far in life. Matt would be reading a book in braille while his Daddy would be socking the living daylights out of a punching bag. It reminded him of his roots and he wouldn't let it go to ruin. Not if he could help it.

"What's Hell's Kitchen?"

"Only the heart of ghetto central. It makes the Bronx look like a cakewalk."

"Sheesh, kid."

Now they got it. But unless you've ever lived in the heart of Hell's Kitchen then you can never really understand life there. It was his home, no matter how successful he was in life, how important Daredevil became. He was always going to be that little blind kid from the ghetto. Nothing would ever change that, he and Foggy were just kids from the streets, but him being a successful lawyer, him being a superhero was going to give Hell's Kitchen a better wrap, you'd better believe it. He'd make sure of it.

"Look guys, my old man's boxing ring is kind of important to me."

"Wait, boxing ring? You said your last name was Murdock right? Like 'Battling Jack' Murdock?"

Of course it would be Tony who'd figure it out, figure out the key to Matt's name and parentage. Though he honestly hadn't thought anyone would remember his dad. Nobody really remembers prize-fighters when they're gone. Their fans don't really care who thy watch when it really comes down to it. When had the Tony Stark heard of his Daddy? He was pretty sure that he had never been to one of his Daddy's many matches. He would have known about it if he had.

"Yeah, he was my old man. Did you see him fight? I honestly thought that nobody cared much about the death of a washed-up old prizefighter." at least...nobody but him.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off when suddenly, Matt winced and he reached into the backpack hanging from his shoulder, pulled out a wristwatch, gently popped off the top and stroked the numbers with feather-light touches. Then he cursed fluently inside his head, it was going to be beyond late when he finally got home and he had school the next day. He needed to wake up early to go to school, that was the only time when one brave bus decided to drive through Hell's Kitchen to take them to Midtown Highschool. The only Highschool in the surrounding area.

"Well, it was nice talking to you guys and all, but if I wanna get home in time to wake up for school tomorrow. I'd better go."

Matt shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulders and yanked on his mask, heading over to the closest window, which happened to be on the other side of the room. When a hand lashed out and caught his wrist. It was Steve.

"You're welcome to live here. Tony has enough room."

"Steve! Stop giving away rooms in the Tower!...But seriously kid, our door is always open."

Matt just smiled and shrugged, walking over to the window and giving a mock salute to them, before diving out backwards with the reckless grin that was commonly on his face.