Daisy could only hope Stick had an idea where he was leading her because she had no clue where they were. All she knew was her heart was racing and that food was at wherever they were or about to be.
Her heart raced, her senses were clouded with his blood — she almost felt sick at the idea that he had cut his own hand off. But Stick told her sacrifices would be made — she hoped she could keep her hand.
Daisy shoved her hands into her sweatpants. She shivered slightly, sensitive to the cold that nipped at her exposed arms. "Am I just a sacrifice?" She finally asked, wishing to have stayed silent. She wouldn't have minded but Daisy needed the truth. Was she hear to die.
Stick had pulled them to a stop. He expected the question to come at some point, but ideally when he had time to deal with her emotional well being. "Don't be weak, Daisy, everyone is a sacrifice in this war."
"It's always about the war. The war isn't what I mean."
"I know what you mean, you are being weak. Clouded by self pity. Snap out of it before it gets you killed."
"It's just—"
"We don't have time for this."
The teenagers head tilted down, guilt changing her heart beat. "Sorry." She whispered, following his steps once more as she pushed up the green tinted glasses, feeling them slip down.
Other then blood and pain, she remembered her mothers green dress and her fathers green tie. They had been on their way to somewhere posh, a posh sort of wedding or social gathering where her mother was maid of honour or of other importance — Daisy often changed the details to delete the pain. It was supposed to be a five minute drive, but they never completed it, instead they died and she survived.
She had given up trying to work out where they were. Her self pity often stopped her doing so. Self pity often got her in danger as she would ignore controlling her senses allow a headache to build and stop caring.
"This is a shitty excuse for a hideout."
"Stick. Daisy."
"Oh, hi Matt." Daisy mumbled, kicking her right foot back and forth, allowing the combat boots to drag against the floor. They were cheap, she could always get a new pair — or steal some if push came to shove.
"Matty." Stick greeted, leaving the teenager at the entry, where she leaned against the wall, her hands rubbing her temples.
"Who the hell are you guys?"
"The guys that's gonna help you save New York." He told them, dramatically letting his sword slice through the air before placing it in the back holster.
Daisy had already put hers in. She wasn't one for that type of dramatics.
"How did you find us, Stick?"
"You know this guy."
Daisy's attention was slightly focused on the food being made right next to her. She turned to the waiters and chef, a sweet smile on her face before asking for a kids meal good enough for a fussy child. Daisy was sensitive to food, it had to taste and smell right for her to even attempt to eat it — and of course the cleaning, the soapy taste plates sometimes left on food, it was difficult having her senses.
"It's complicated."
Daisy gently took the warm plate into her hands. She was a little amused to find it to simply be a portion of chips and cucumber. But it was a safe option for a fussy child. "No, not really." She disagreed, blowing on the hot chips.
"We call ourselves the Chaste."
"You do, I call myself a sacrifice."
"I'm Danny."
"Ugh! These names are killing me."
"And we're the only reason the Hand hasn't already won the war. We follow the elders of K'un-Lun and the Immortal Iron Fist." Stick bowed slightly.
"The Chaste is my army?"
"I'm not serving no man if I'm not in his will!"
"Was, they're all dead now. Everyone, except me and Daisy."
"How come no one told me?"
Daisy pulled her hair from the ponytail, letting her band rest around her wrist. "No one wants to serve you and they're dead. Can't do much about it." The teenager commented, eating a piece of cucumber.
"Why are you here, Stick, Daisy?"
"Because this one: the Immortal Iron First, living weapon and protector of the ancient city, is still a thundering dumbass." Stick spoke, reaching into the blazer and lifting up a phone. He dropped it to the ground, stamping on it. "New rules kid, shit like this will get you killed."
"I tried to call Colleen." Danny stammered, looking between the people around the table. "I told her where I was. Where is she?"
"Colleen is dead."
"What?!"
"No. She's safer than we are. Small mistakes, personal ties. These are what they'll use to end you."
"What happened to you? What happened to your hand?" The one that sounded like Jessica Jones (who had very briefly been on the radio news, or at least a recording of her had been) asked.
"He cut it off."
"And now we need your help."
Matt chuckled to himself. Same old story. Something about the war and Stick came running back for help — as if he hadn't stranded Matt. "Yeah, here it comes."
"Here what comes?"
"This is what he does."
"How do you know him again?"
"You saw me fighting? Like Daisy does, I learned from him."
"I'm so sorry, can I ask what your name is? You're the only one I don't know. That's if I've guess Jessica right." Daisy spoke, putting her empty plate on the glass side. "Big fan, by the way."
"Luke Cage."
"Oh, wow! That's such a cool name. I'm Daisy."
And since eating she had cheered up a little. She rocked on her feet, coming away from the wall and joined them around the round table.
"You're a blind lawyer, you're Daredevil, and you're a member of the Chaste?"
"No, uh-uh, I never joined his war." Matt denied. His attention turned to his old mentor. "Hey, Stick, you and I need to talk. Daisy, you're coming too."
Luke Cage looked at the three — each of them did, not understanding why those three got to have private talks. Sure there was history but if they had to team up they had to trust one another and know everything. "Anything you gotta say, you say in front of us."
"This is between me and him. And her, now."
"Hey, we are all in danger."
"I don't know you very well, Mr Cage, you seem like a good guy, so trust me when I tell you that with this old man, nothing is sacred."
"Kid, it's not just one of us this time. It's the whole goddamn city we're talking about."
"We're talking about their lives, Stick. We're talking about the lives of their loved ones."
"We can let the people near me die, if you fancy. Like the apartment block I live at has like several 'not guilty' predators that no one would miss. Can they be our sacrifices instead of me? One of them tried to break into my place yesterday. Very scary, barely lived."
"We're not sacrificing people, Daisy! Please come to me and Foggy about that."
"You're too expensive." The teenager muttered, stuffing her hands back into her pockets. She was a little miffed that Matt wouldn't let them coincidentally die mysteriously whilst only she survived. "I preferred you more when you were trying to get into—"
"Daisy!" Matt warned.
"Sorry."
Jessica pinched her brows together, looking between the three blind people. This whole conversation simply got weirded and she wouldn't be lying if she said she had no idea what anything meant and that she was questioning life more then usual. "Wait, what?"
"Those tremors that shook up the place, they're nothing compared to what comes next." Stick said, his body turned towards the three who seemed to know less. "The Hand's done it before. Pompeii, Chernobyl. Events the history books like to calm catastrophes, just cover-ups. 'Cause New York is next. And the only thing keeping Manhattan from crumbling to a pile of dust is the five of you." He said his hand pointing between all but himself.
"All right, I am done with this tin-foil-hat shit."
"Whoa, where are you going?"
"I tried to hang in, guys. I really did, but whatever this guy's selling, I ain't buying."
"Sit down and shut up." Stick shouted.
Daisy flinched, her hands pressed to her ears. Of course he had to shout right next to her, as if she wasn't having enough of her senses drowned by him. The smell and taste of blood, now she was facing the ringing in her ears from his shouts.
So, Jessica Jones stormed out with Luke Cage following after.
Matt paced slightly, Danny sat down on a chair, Daisy sat on the floor cleaning the drops of blood on her sword and Stick supported his weight with a chair.
"Is she coming back?"
"No, she left." Matt and Daisy spoke.
Daisy looked up to Matt — he was aware of it. She wanted to be a lawyer and manage to have a normal life one day and he had somewhat managed that. She was jealous but admired him.
Matt had only met her a handful of times, one of which she stayed over at his after falling unconscious. Daisy had fainted whilst out with him and Stick. Matt had refused to let his old mentor ditch the girl back at her apartment, especially after she had commented on the lack of food and warmth there. His girlfriend had nursed her back to health.
"Use your powers?" Danny asked, his eyes flickering between the two. It was safe to say he was a little amazed. Two blind fighters who thought better then most with sight.
"No, I've just met her."
"He's all about consent. Unless you're half dead!"
"How doesn't she understand how big this is?"
Daisy tilted her head. "How? You realise to someone who doesn't deal with the Hand would think this is insane? She's had a perfectly rational reaction."
"Agreed, and well, I don't know her too well, but like me, she has a life. No matter how big or small it is, it's still hers."
"After all you've been through, Matty, I thought you'd be more open-mind when the time came. Where's Elizabeth?"
Matt chuckled. "Well, forgive me if I'm not excited at the prospect of fighting the Hand again. And you leave her out of this, she doesn't want to be around you, and you will not risk her and the - just not her, ok?"
Daisy pushed herself off the floor, a sickness rushing over her. She hadn't had proper access to food in a few days — rush eating a whole meal had made her feel a little not so good. "Give me a second." She told them, finding her way to the bathroom to throw up.
She sat on the cold floor, her hands on the toilet as she threw up the content of her stomach — maybe she should have just had a salad, something light after not eating for ages. Not salty chips.
Daisy could still hear them talk — she assumed Matt and Stick could hear her heart beat amongst other things.
"How'd you get involved in the first place?"
"He's one of the most naturally skilled fighters I've ever known."
"I saw."
"Yeah, I trained him to fight a war, just like I've trained Daisy." She heard her mentor scoff."He decided to put on an outfit. Stop crime in back alleys."
Daisy felt no reason to leave the comfort of the cold bathroom. She flushed the toilet to get rid of the sick, pulled the holster from her bag and fished out a body spray that she had made a secure pocket for and sprayed the area as well as herself.
She pressed her head to the stall wall, looking for comfort in the coldness. She arms wrapped around herself. She wasn't dressed for cold, she was dressed for fighting but not really. She had black thin sweatpants, a hopefully dark green thin sleeveless turtle neck and her cheap combat boots.
"Well, from what I've heard, you're doing a good job."
"Past tense. He's retired."
"You know what? We are not talking about this, all right?"
"Suit yourself. But I think you two have got a lot to learn from each other."
Daisy pulled herself off the floor and washed her hands. She found her strength to re-enter the room they were arguing. She sat in a chair, claiming a glass of water from the centre and downed it. Daisy placed her arms on the table, resting her head against them.
"I'm done taking lessons, Stick."
"Lessons ain't don't with you. You get Elizabeth here."
"She's done with this. You leave her out of this."
Sticks head tilted. "Domestic life doesn't suit you, Matty."
Luke Cage stepped in as Daisy let out a mutter. A mutter wishing they'd shut up. "This isn't her fight."
"Sooner it later, it's gonna be everybody's fight."
"Not if I can help it." Luke spoke. His eyes casted down to the teenager, he felt like the only one to notice. Her eyes were closed — as he could see through her green glasses — and her skin looked paler then it had earlier. "Is she ok?"
"She'll be fine."
"She was like this when she fainted, Stick!" Matt pointed out. Her heart was weak but pounding fast, her body temperature seemed to be getting colder and colder. Her blood pressure was down and she had just thrown up. Matt never got how Stick could say she was ok, there was clearly something wrong with here. She was awake, seemingly just about. Matt placed his coat over the teenager. "Of course, you wouldn't care."
Daisy barely moved, pulling the coat around her and tighter to her skin.
"All right. Let's just get this over with."
"Seems like now is the time for you to tell us everything we need to know." Luke said, turning his chair around. He straddled it and crossed his arms, watching Stick.
Stick told the story of the war. The story claimed to be the truth that Daisy had heard on enough occasions. She didn't have the energy to concentrate on it not if she wanted to be able to fight later.
She hadn't woke up feeling to good, and since eating she only felt worse. Daisy had almost fallen asleep during the story.
"Has anyone ever told you you're obnoxious?" she questioned, lifting her head to face it towards Danny — only so he knew she was talking to him. It made no difference to her. "Like stop, please."
"Why are you here if you're ill?"
"I'm not ill, I'm poor and have dead parents. I can't afford food let alone food with flavouring and salt. I haven't ate in five and a half days, and I've just thrown up, give me half an hour of you not being obnoxious and I'll be fine."
Matt called the teenager over, trying anything to stop her from causing a fight and wearing herself out even more.
She moved over to the window, slipping her arms into the coat, holding it tight around her. She blocked out Luke and Danny, leaning into Matt for support and heat.
"Daisy, are you sure you're ok?"
"Yeah." She muttered, shivering. "Sensory overload, don't you get that?"
"When I was a teenage, it got better after that." Matt promised. "I'll teach you."
"I think it's the sensory overload. That and you know the hunger, eating a portion of really salty chips wasn't a good idea." Daisy spoke, she felt the man tuck her under one of his arms, placing his other hand to her forehead.
"You should see a doctor for this."
"Can't afford." She shrugged.
"My girlfriend is a nurse, why don't you stay with me? Blair would look after you."
Stick approached the two. They barely knew each other yet Matt and Daisy were close, easily mistaken for siblings by strangers. They were similar in many ways, they acted like they'd known each other for ages and whilst they technically had, Stick didn't let them interact often — it was best for him if she didn't get upset about the war before she had her chance to be a martyr.
It was easier for Stick if Daisy had limited connections outside of him. He controlled her whole world, her interactions with Matt and Blair had caused issues before, and he knew better then to let them corrupt her.
"I'm glad you found others." Stick said to Matt from slightly behind them.
"Don't act like this is normal."
"Don't act like I don't know what's really going on with you." Stick said, coming to stand the other side of Daisy. "You crossed paths with her, too?"
"With who?"
"Don't bullshit me. Elektra."
"How'd you know?" Matt asked, his head turned towards the man.
"I know you, son." Stick told him, his body towards the lawyer. Both of them paid attention to each other, ignorant of anyone else around them. But lucky for them, Daisy was use to being the look out and listening for anything that could slip past her mentor. "She's the only reason you're here."
"She's alive, Stick.
"No she's not. She's something else."
"You didn't mention her in front of them."
One wrong word and a fight could erupt between them. "Stick cared for Elektra, just like you did. He calls it his greatest failure, that and Mary's death. Caring is weakness and all that jazz. He won't see her as being alive because she isn't his Elektra, she's someone else's weapon. Stick trained her to be undetectable, she took that with her into this life. She's a secret we're sharing, but not my idea and I will totally throw you both under the buss to protect myself, except when I'm a sacrifice and a weapon!"
Daisy excused herself from the two she knew. She really didn't want to listen to Matt say they could help or save her. She didn't want to hear that she was just another person Stick can sacrifice because she isn't Mary or Mary's daughter or Elektra or Matt. She would always be a shadow of them, a shadow he took on to have a solider.