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4.12.5 Sabah Azimi

Interlude 4.12.5: Sabah Azimi

Sabah Azimi

2010, November 26: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I checked New Wave's official site for the fourth time, just to be sure. I'd checked last night of course. And the day before that. And for about a week solid if I was being honest. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw what I'd been looking for: There it was, under Panacea's profile, in big, bold letters, giving me hope.

[Tis the season to be grateful. We have been blessed by you, our supporters, and would love to pay some of that forward. As part of our desire to spread the holiday cheer, Panacea will be active all weekend at the Brockton Bay General Hospital from 9 AM to 6 PM.]

The whole thing stank of public relations. Like most people, I considered New Wave to be a failed movement that mostly stayed relevant thanks to pretty privilege on Glory Girl's part and Panacea's ridiculously useful power. Even Laserdream and Shielder didn't really do hero work anymore. But right now, I didn't care. A near delirious wave of hope and relief filled me, the kind that made me want to cackle like a loon for minutes on end.

Bryce was right. Panacea would show today.

Winning a trip from Panacea was quite literally like winning the lottery for people with chronic illnesses. No one could deny that she did her part, but there was always one more, always someone with a better sob story or a luckier draw than dad's. That had been the case for months on end, ever since the doctors diagnosed his heart condition as terminal and put him on the list.

And a single call from Sierra changed that. My friends improved our chances so much that it was all but guaranteed Panacea would visit our room sometime today.

Sierra told Bryce. And Bryce told Amy. I'd been so pissed with her at first. She'd broken my trust. Of course I knew Bryce was Amy's friend; I was the one who helped him shop for a suit for his Homecoming!

But I also knew Amy didn't take requests.

I thought dad would be moved down the list. I thought there was some ledger in the hospital and his patient ID would get crossed off, that we'd forever lose our chance at the lotto because Bryce couldn't keep his mouth shut. It wasn't worth it. Asking was never worth it because it was tantamount to giving up hope.

Because everyone knew Panacea didn't take requests.

Except… Maybe she did? Maybe Bryce meant more to her than any of us realized.

Or maybe this was all a huge coincidence and she'd already been planning a visit for Thanksgiving weekend. Maybe she just happened to mention at lunch that she'd be around and Bryce passed that info to me.

It didn't matter. So long as Panacea visited dad, I could… I could kiss the little guy. I'd officially adopt him. Or give him a huge hug or something. I didn't know what I'd do but I owed him big time. Maybe I'd make him a jacket or something.

Bright and early, I waited in dad's hospital room for Panacea. I wanted to thank her personally. She probably got a thousand little gifts, shows of gratitude from people she'd saved, but I had to make the effort myself. It struck me that I should have asked Bryce what she liked instead of settling for a box of chocolates.

I hummed happily and held dad's hand as the nurses ran their standard tests. We talked about Iraq, about the way things used to be, about how we found ourselves in the United States. He always had the funniest stories about his brothers growing up.

Dad and I didn't get along all the time. He still thought the "fashion thing" was just a phase, that making it as a designer was like plucking a star from the night sky. I hadn't told him I'd switched majors yet, definitely not that I switched because of a pushy boy. He might actually buy a shotgun then.

And he still didn't like that I was lesbian, said it was unnatural and that a "good man" could convince me otherwise. The number of "handsome, young men" he'd introduced me to who just so happened to be single was… higher than necessary.

But… But for all his faults, he was babi, the man who read me bedtime stories and killed all the spiders and kept my little brothers out of my hair. He'd hear me out, no matter my troubles. I'd never once felt afraid of confiding in him even as we disagreed on so many things. He'd never raised a hand to me or my brothers. He'd worked himself to the bone with a smile on his face so we could live without worry, so we could be proud of our babi, he'd said.

I loved him so, so much. Our family needed him. I needed him, more than words could ever say.

We shared a light breakfast and, after swapping stories about my brothers, he fell asleep. He was so much more tired these days. His illness seemed to sap his energy, leaving him bedridden much of the time. The only reason he wasn't a permanent inpatient was because we couldn't afford the hospital bed. If we could, perhaps Panacea would have stumbled on him sooner.

I still didn't know what was wrong with him. The doctors said he had a weak heart, but what did that mean exactly? Cancer? A bad pacemaker? Something genetic I'd have to start worrying about in fifteen years?

I just wanted this to be over.

After a while, nearing noon now, I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called. The door opened to reveal my two best friends, even if I was a little miffed at one of them at the moment.

Sierra's dreads bobbed up and down. They'd always reminded me of a poodle's floppy ears. She looked so cute and pouty that it was hard to stay mad at her and I knew I'd forgive her soon enough. In her hands was a wicker basket filled with flowers and fruit that she rested on the bedside table.

Michelle was wearing a sporty, classy outfit as always. She had her brown hair in a ponytail and I could see a thin film of sweat over her pale skin. She'd probably joined Sierra after a morning run. In her hands was a paper bag printed with the logo of a sandwich shop across the street.

"H-Hey, Sabah. How are you?" Sierra asked, "Or I guess, how is he?"

"He's asleep, Sisi," I replied softly. "Why are you two here?"

"Umm… I just… I felt bad. I'm sorry for telling Bryce," Sierra said with a sheepish smile.

"And I'm just here for moral support," Michelle added. She handed us each a sandwich. "Heard you could use the company right now."

I accepted lunch gratefully. Chicken and provolone with cucumbers, dried tomatoes, and light mayo. My girls were the best. "Don't. I'm not… I'm not mad. I was, but… I know he meant well. How is he?"

"Bryce? He's hanging out with a friend. Mom said he'll probably sleep over for the weekend," Sierra said. "Has Panacea…"

"No, she hasn't been by." I put on a confident smile for them. "I'm sure she will be around though. She must be somewhere else in the hospital."

"Yeah…" Sierra looked down with a wince. "About that…"

"What? What's going on, Sierra?"

"I thought maybe she'd have come by before leaving-"

"Leave? Leave for where? Why would Panacea leave?"

Michelle put a hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me back into my seat. I hadn't realized I'd gotten up.

"Chill, Sabs, it's not Sierra's fault. Or Bryce's," she said soothingly.

But I didn't want to be soothed right now. I wanted to know why Panacea wasn't at the hospital. "Michelle, what's going on?"

She took out her phone and opened it to a PHO page. My eyes glided across the page, seeing but not understanding. After several moments, I began to read:

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Topic: Behemoth in Damascus

In: Boards ► United States ► New England ► Brockton Bay ► News & Announcements

Brilliger (Original Poster) (Moderator: Protectorate Main)

Posted On Nov 26th 2010:

***ATTENTION***

As of 9:53 AM, we received confirmation that Behemoth has attacked Damascus, Syria. All members of the endbringer response team are to meet for relocation to the Boston waypoint at the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters.

I repeat: If you are planning to attend the battle, head to the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters.

Transport to Boston will be provided, and from there, to Damascus.

A second wave of transports will be provided once the battle concludes. Please keep your phones on. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

As of now, the endbringer truce is in effect.

(Showing page 1 of 2)

►XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

FIRST!

*The user has received a 3 day ban for this post.

►Brilliger (Original Poster) (Moderator: Protectorate Main)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

No. Shut up. Not the post for this. You didn't break any rules, but have some fucking tact, Void.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

I'm just relieved I don't know anyone there.

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

[Brilliger,] do we know who will attend from our side of things? I have access to the [endbringer response roster,] but that's more of a statement of intent rather than a binding document.

►Brilliger (Original Poster) (Moderator: Protectorate Main)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

For good reason, [Bagrat.] I think you know why. We can't make people attend, especially an endbringer battle on foreign soil. We'll see who shows but we won't know for sure until it happens.

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

No matter what, hero or villain, thank you for your sacrifice.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

Yeah, what he said. Shit just got as real as real gets.

►Xyloloup

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

Wait, what about New Wave? Panacea was supposed to do a tour of the hospital today, right?

►Answer Key

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

I doubt that's going to happen anymore. Either Panacea will be on the ground there shortly, or she'll be resting up and preparing to go help clean up the aftermath.

►Xyloloup

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

Fuck. Why now?

►White Fairy (Veteran Member)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

Endbringer attacks are never "convenient." There's no such thing. My condolences. It seems like this time, your relative pulled the short straw.

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Nov 26th 2010:

[Found it.] New Wave posted a retraction of Panacea's hospital visit. She, alongside her family, will be attending the aftermath of the Damascus battle to conduct search and rescue and provide emergency aid.

End of Page. 1

The world spun around me. Behemoth attacked Damascus. Panacea wasn't coming. The rest of the thread was bloated with people saying Panacea should stay, people raging at having their hopes dashed. It got so bad that Brilliger had to lock the thread entirely.

I couldn't blame them. It felt like someone had swept the floor from beneath my feet. A wave of despair crushed down on me like a physical force. I fell to my knees as dad slept on, unaware that we'd just lost our biggest chance to meet her. Panacea was supposed to fix this. One minute. Just a single, damned minute of her time. Was that too much to ask for?

Dad was… He was supposed to get better…

In that moment, it felt like Behemoth had somehow selected my dad specifically to fuck over. Like the entire world was out to get us.

'You could have arranged for this sooner,' a niggling voice whispered in the back of my mind. 'You knew Bryce was friends with Amy.'

Try as I might, I couldn't dispute that. I knew. And I didn't ask.

'Because you're a coward. Because you're terrified of rejection.'

I… I failed.

Again.

I was never good enough. Not at engineering. Not at confronting pushy boys. Not at being a good daughter. I couldn't even ask Sierra's little brother for a favor. I knew he liked me. He would have happily talked to Panacea for me sooner.

One question.

One. Fucking. Question.

And I couldn't even do that.

I felt Sierra wrap her arms around me. I sank into the taller girl's embrace as she whispered in my ear. "She'll come back," she promised. "Panacea will come back and we can ask later. It's going to be okay."

I took a deep breath. It wasn't okay. Again and again, I was relying on others. Again and again, I wasn't good enough to fix any of my problems on my own.

Sierra and Michelle were amazing. They were always so confident, so much stronger than me. An evil, bitchy part of me wanted to snap at her, tell her that it was her fault somehow, that she didn't know what it was like.

Except she did. Her dad died this summer. She knew exactly what this was like. Back then, Sierra, Michelle, and I had snuck a bottle of wine and gotten blackout drunk in Michelle's row house. We held her as she sobbed for hours. She confided in us then that she had to be strong for her mom and little brother, that she had to be the one to keep things together.

It made things so much worse to know I still had hope and she didn't. Dad wasn't gone yet. He wasn't dead yet. Panacea would come back. Bryce could reach out to her, ask for a favor or whatever he did.

I took in a ragged breath. Why didn't any of that make me feel better? Why was I still shaking? It would be fine. I just… I just needed to be patient.

'And wait for someone else to fix your problems,' that snide voice in my mind whispered. 'Be the damsel in distress. Be patient. Wait for a savior. Wait to receive someone else's charity. That's all you're good for.'

The world swam around me in dizzying spirals. Was I crying? I couldn't tell anymore. I hated this. I loved my friends but I hated this. I hated feeling weak. I hated feeling helpless. I hated how nothing seemed to be going right in my life. And most of all, I hated myself.

I wished I was stronger. I wished I was more confident, more proactive. I wished I had Panacea's powers so I could save dad. Or had Michelle's confidence so I could tell pushy boys to go fuck themselves. I wished I had Sierra's relationship with her family. Then maybe they'd accept me loving fashion and being gay.

I just…

I wished I could be like other people…

[Destination]

[Agreement]

X

I groaned pitifully as I returned to consciousness. Countless stars danced behind my eyes, a meteor shower that I blinked away. I opened my eyes and looked up at Michelle's concerned face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she teased gently, brushing my sweat-soaked bangs from my eyes. "You okay?"

I got up slowly. She and Sierra had taken two of the hospital chairs and placed them side by side so I could rest. They placed my head on Michelle's lap and Sierra had taken to leaning against the wall to give me space to lie down.

"Y-Yeah, I think I just cried myself to sleep," I said. I gave my friends a grateful smile. "Thanks, girls. I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Are you sure, Sabs?" Sierra asked, naked concern plain to see. "One second I was giving you a hug, then you passed out. We should get you checked out."

"N-No, I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine…"

"I am," I insisted. Or… I thought I was. Now that I was fully conscious, I could feel something different inside me. It felt like a spool of thread, a ball of yarn with three threads poking out that I could unwind.

I was also hyper-aware of my own clothes, tight jeans, a cute, pink top, and a puffy, cream jacket I thought would look stylish with a light-green, knit scarf. It was like I could feel every fiber, every thread, every weave and knot that made up my outfit.

I looked up at my friends and realized I'd been mistaken: it wasn't just my own clothes. I could feel them all. Everything from the curtains to dad's hospital gown to the stray thread that was coming loose from Sierra's jacket. It was like a whole new world had been revealed before me, a new sense for fabrics that I hadn't had before.

I stumbled back with a gasp. I leaned against the wall and tried to make sense of it all. It wasn't hard to reach the obvious conclusion: I, Sabah Azimi, had powers.

Somehow.

"Sabs, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to cry yourself unconscious," Sierra said. "And you shouldn't be stumbling around either. Sit down, please."

"Yeah, you're worrying us, Sabah," Michelle added.

"I-I.. Yeah…" I stumbled back to the chair and took a seat. I stared down at my hands and took deep breaths. Slowly, I began to collect myself, coming to terms with the fact that I'd triggered.

I knew about triggers of course. Everyone did. Or, at least the basics. It was parahuman science 101, the kind of thing that got covered once for a test and never mentioned again in polite company. Something bad happened. A prospective parahuman got pushed to the edge. And then… BAM! Powers.

I let out a hollow chuckle. I supposed this was mine, the need to help dad? Or maybe the need to stop being helpless. So why was it that my power was to… see and feel fabrics…?

Was I that pathetic? Did I really have nothing else my power could latch onto?

Before I could lambast myself further, I felt a cup being pushed into my hand. Sierra had left and come back before I'd even noticed, a cup of steaming liquid in hand.

"Tea, Sabah," she said softly. "One of the nurses got it for me. I know it's not like the tea set you have at home, but-"

I took it with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sisi. It's fine. Any tea sounds amazing right about now."

I took a sip and let the warm liquid soothe me. Looking at both of them, I wondered, why? Why me? Why did I get powers and these two didn't? It wasn't like their lives were filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows. Hell, Sierra could have gotten powers this summer.

Except she hadn't. I knew that for a fact because she would have told me. Told us. That's just the kind of person she was; she was quick to trust, kind, and loyal. She was open and confident and engaging without being naive. She wasn't afraid of confrontation, nor was she afraid of being vulnerable between friends. She was exactly the kind of woman I wanted to be.

Maybe that was why she didn't get powers and I did. She turned to us, relied on us, when she was at her lowest, whereas I wanted to shoulder it all alone until I started to crumble under the weight.

I drained the tea and let the heat stoke a fire in me. No more. I didn't want to be that person anymore. It wasn't as if I had no one. I had amazing friends. Maybe it was time I acted like it.

"I have powers," I blurted out before I lost the courage, tears welling in my eyes again.

"What?"

"I-I think that was a trigger. I can feel fabrics now. Threads. From far away," I said. I was babbling now. Once I started talking, it all came out like a flood. "I felt helpless. I wanted to be someone else. I wished I had powers like Panacea. And then-"

"Oh, Sabah," Michelle whispered, pulling me into a hug.

Sierra joined in on my other side and the three of us stayed like that, in a quiet cuddle pile until dad woke up. I almost laughed hysterically at that. His daughter triggered two feet away from him and he didn't even notice.

I hated this. All of it. My world was turning upside down. But so long as I had these two with me, I couldn't help but feel like I'd be just fine.

X

2010, November 27: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Sierra was the biggest cape nerd I knew. Well, not quite, but the biggest cape nerd I trusted. Which was kinda huge given the circumstances. Michelle and I liked to make fun of her sometimes, but I wouldn't trade her for the world right now.

According to her, powers were almost always combative in some form. Whether that was to protect or to hurt, or to figure out ways to hurt, there were very few capes whose power could not be used for fighting. In that light, Panacea was a freak of nature, an anomaly that confused the hell out of even the best parahuman scientists.

It was why, by her estimation, I had to be able to do more. There was no way my power was simply to perceive fabrics within thirty feet.

And she'd been right.

We were crammed in Sierra's room, testing the limits of my power. We found that the spool of thread I felt inside of me were more like bendable straws, three strands that I could sheath over the threads I touched. My power then spread from that single thread to others that made up the article of clothing, allowing me to control the entire article of clothing from a single strand.

But I only had three of these "straws," and so, right now, three shirts I was making dance in the air.

"This doesn't sound right," Sierra said. "What are you supposed to do? Strangle someone to death with their own shirts?"

"I wouldn't do that anyway," I said tiredly. "Sisi, I think my power kinda sucks."

"Hey, at least you can make clothes faster now?"

"Joy," I drawled. "That'll get all the villains to quake in their boots."

"Is that what you want to be?" Michelle asked. "A hero?"

"I don't know. I just… I don't know, Michelle…"

"Maybe something will happen if someone puts on the clothes."

Then, before I could stop her, Michelle shrugged off her top and snagged one of Sierra's shirts that were hanging in the air. She was taller than Sierra so her shirt fit more like a crop top on her, but she was the type of girl who could make anything work.

My world exploded. I'd always been aware of the world around me, about thirty feet or so. Every fabric in the area was known to me in a sixth sense I'd not had before I got my power. That of course included the three shirts I'd latched on to.

Now, everything about Michelle's body was laid bare to me, from her athletic form to her general health. It was a bit much, so much information that I doubted I'd be able to put them to words. I might have to brush up on my biology lessons. More, it felt as if my senses expanded with her as the locus, another thirty feet of awareness in which every fabric could be perceived.

"Woah," I gasped.

"So I was right? Awesome! What's your power do?"

"I can feel you. And the fabric around you."

Sierra hummed. "So it'd be good for scouting? Or telling whether someone is healthy?"

"Not scouting, I think," I said hesitantly. "I'm only aware of fabrics and Michelle so I don't think it'll be very useful for that. But maybe, if I made a set of bracelets that could be taken off quickly, I could tell when someone's sick."

"Triage via fabric then? Cool."

"I don't know. It's still not a very strong power. And it's not as if I'm a nurse. I can see Michelle's blood pressure, but I don't know what a 'normal' level is."

"We can work on that. See? I told you it's better than just controlling three pieces of clothing at a time."

"Maybe. I feel like there's more though. I think… Michelle isn't the right wearer, if that makes any sense?"

"Let me try then," Sierra said, putting on the second shirt. "Anything?"

"No, sorry."

"So nothing to do with ownership then. It'll come in time. After all, even Legend had to have started from somewhere."

"Yeah, thanks, girls."

We talked a bit more. There were more ideas, but none bore much fruit. Michelle and I were about to get out of Sierra's hair when my phone dinged to inform me that I had a message on PHO. I opened it to find a note from an account I didn't recognize, though given the screen name, there wasn't really anyone else it could be.

Be-Rice: Hey, Sabah, sorry about Panacea. I know it's no one's fault that Behemoth attacked yesterday, but I still feel terrible for getting your hopes up. You know how I'm pretty plugged into New Wave gossip? Yeah, well, I recently got sent [this] PHO post.

Be-Rice: Long story short, Creed attended the endbringer aftermath to test out some healing tech. He's exactly the kind of mercenary douchebag who'd use an attack to pressure Panacea into verifying his tech's effectiveness, but… it works. He published a video recording of her saying as much. As far as she's concerned, it's as good as her healing and he's holding a raffle for free healing to advertise or something.

Be-Rice: He's selecting ten random draws from the first 1000 replies to his PHO thread. I replied obviously, but I figure we should maximize our chances. I know this isn't a replacement for Panacea. I'm still going to talk to her for you again on Monday, but it's worth a shot, right?

Be-Rice: I've gotta go. Talk to you later, Sabs.

And suddenly, all thoughts of my new power flew out the window.

Author's Note

After some thought, I decided I should post more chapters per week. It won't be every week, but I'll frequently post at least two.

Well, here's Sabah's trigger. Objectively, she could have simply decided "Oh, well, I'll ask Bryce to set something up for me when Panacea gets back." But trigger events don't make logical sense. It's not really about whether something is "fixable" as much as it is the person's emotional state and I hope I portrayed that right.

Sabah's overwhelming sense of despair, self-loathing, and a wish to be someone she perceived as "better" than her were enough to see her trigger.

As for her power, I just had to do something with threads. People who are familiar with Worm will probably be able to guess what the "more" she's feeling is.

The name "Sabah" comes from the Arabic word for morning. As I understand it, "moon" is a fairly common term of endearment for young girls, just like "sweetie" is in America. Sabah's dad calls her his little dawn as a play on that.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.