#cadeverse

~In which a normal evening suddenly goes sideways~

Chris & Emma masterpost

In 2019, I wrote a little whumplet for Whumptober. Then I wrote another in 2020. And then a few more. This series exists in the Head Wind AU, where Cade and his team work for some kind of covert agency, not yet specified. So far, it's the only Cade series from an outsider's POV.

Much appreciation to the anon who's periodically requested more in the series. I don't think I'm done with it yet, thanks to you. 🩷

~~~

The doorbell startles Chris awake. His book tumbles off the sofa onto the living room rug as he sits up. That late already? He hadn’t meant to nap for long.

When he opens the door, though, the sun is just setting. And it’s not Emma. It’s a man about his own age, in an olive-green jacket over a Crossfit T-shirt. “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you,” says the man. “I think I took a wrong turn, and I can’t get a GPS signal. Do you know how to get to Lee’s Smokehouse?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re not too far from it.” He lets the door swing open a little wider.

As Chris turns to point down the road to the west, the man slams into him like a linebacker intent on a mid-field tackle.

Case in point: I started Undertow in November 2021, and finished it in March 2023. Word count: 21,314.

I first started writing for Whumptober in 2018. I was a completionist that year, and the next two. And then...it got harder. Writerbrain just resisted. And this year wasn't any different. I'd resigned myself to not participating this year.

But...

What if...? whispered the writerbrain.

Of course, I was like "Where tf have you BEEN" and "What are you on about, writerbrain" and "are you really coming up with a plot on October SECOND"

And after many negotiations, it seems like there might be some words. But the way it's probably gonna go down is, they'll be inspired by 31 Whumptober prompts, but probably will wind up posted on AO3, and may not get there until the end of the month.

But by golly I'm going to do SOMETHING with the 1600 words it gave me for the first 3 days.

Summary: Cade wasn’t OK with dying, but he wasn’t really prepared to not die, either.

Context: Immediately after In the Wind, after the phone call that confirms Hank is OK.

This is all @redwingedwhump’s fault for saying nice things about my team dynamics.  :)

~~~

“First,” Donnie said, “Let’s run you by a hospital real quick to get checked out.” “First, we’re going to pick up Hank,” I said. Hank was in South Carolina without any way to get back to us, so we had to go get him. The plan was to meet him at the highway welcome center just past the state line. “We only need one car for that,” he said. “Alex can go get Hank, and we—” “It’s not like I’m bleeding out. I’ll be fine. I'll go later.” He gave me an exasperated look, but no way were they going to drag me to a hospital right then. I’d just talked to Hank, so I knew he was OK, but I needed to see him face to face. I don’t know why. I just did. The drive was pretty miserable, although that wasn’t Donnie’s fault. He asked me if I’d rather talk or listen to music, so I chose music. And then every other song seemed to be some guy smashing his guitar while screaming about not being OK. I could've asked to change to another station, I guess. But he might have asked why, and explaining felt like too much work.   I’d run out of energy a long time ago, burned through all of it waiting for Owen to finally get around to killing me. If I’d had any reserves, I’d burned through those too. And it just wouldn’t end. I felt hot and hollow, like the last log in a campfire, ready to collapse into sparks and ash. The longer we drove, the more scrapes and bruises woke up and started complaining. I started to rub my eyes and stopped when I saw the back of my hand was scraped to hell. When had that happened? I couldn’t remember. I remembered walking into the cabin. Nothing was out of the ordinary, or so I’d thought at the time. I watched the replay in my head, over and over, looking for where I’d screwed up. The door had been locked when I got there. I didn’t think I could’ve mistaken an unlocked door for a locked one. Then what? The light in the kitchen had been on. I’d assumed one of us had left it on, but I probably should’ve wondered, right? If I’d paused for one second and looked down the hall, maybe everything would have turned out differently, and I wouldn’t have come so close to getting Hank killed. What the fuck was I going to say to him?  There wasn’t an apology strong enough for the gnawing disgust that snarled my insides. “How you doing over there?” Donnie asked. “Fine.” “Of course.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “That hurts my feelings, dude. Lying to my face like that. I thought we were friends.” “I’m lying to your face because we’re friends.” “Points for honest lying, I guess. Or lying honestly. You don’t have to be fine, but you do need to tell me if you feel sick or dizzy or something, in case I need to divert to the next hospital.” “OK.” He was keeping his curiosity to himself, I could tell. He was dying to ask what had happened, where I’d been, how everything had played out. He and Alex and Hank had spent too many stressful hours waiting and wondering what was going on. And now here I was, the guy with the answers. I watched the dark landscape scroll by the window. Talking about it would mean thinking about it, and I was already doing too much of that. We crossed the South Carolina border, and my heart started thumping harder. It wasn’t like Hank was going to yell at me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice. But whatever he’d gone through between when I walked away from him and now was my fault.

Too soon, a blue sign pointed us off the highway to a tidy little brick building with picnic tables on either side. Hank was sitting on a bench out front. As we pulled in, he stretched a little and stood up, like it was totally natural to be hanging out at an empty rest stop at 4:30 in the morning. Donnie pulled into the closest space and glanced at me expectantly.

I almost couldn’t get out of the truck. I felt sick again. Maybe that bump on the head would turn out to be a fatal head bleed after all. On the plus side, if I stood up and immediately passed out, I wouldn’t have to decide what to say. Unfortunately, I stayed conscious the whole time my feet got me out of the truck and walked me toward Hank. He seemed OK, as far as I could tell, though I couldn’t make myself look him in the eye. I took a deep breath as I stopped in front of him. “Hank, I—” “C’mere, buddy,” he said, and hugged me like he was my dad. I almost lost my shit. Again. All the apologies I’d set up in my head fell apart, and I just croaked fuck into his shoulder. And then said it a few more times, as my eyes burned and I tried not to drip anything on his shirt. He was there, solid and real, the same Hank as always, which meant that even though I’d still fucked everything up, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He finally let me out of the hug so he could look me over. “You look like shit,” he observed. “I know,” I said. “Listen, I’m...I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what?” He sounded honestly baffled. “We’re all going home, buddy, and that’s all I care about.” Back to Memphis. Familiar things. Normal things. Home. I didn’t know why it felt so disorienting, like being underwater and the surface isn’t where you thought it would be. He glanced at the brick building. “Want to run inside and wash up a little? The sinks have decent hot water.” Alone? It struck me as another strange idea. Free to just walk off by myself...that sounded good. Really good. And hot water sounded even better. ~~~ As Cade disappeared into the building, Donnie and Alex joined Hank. “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming down.” Donnie shook his head. “You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this plan...but I have to admit, you are looking remarkably not-dead.” Hank shrugged deprecatingly. “It’s a talent.” “Talent.” Alex’s deep voice had the slightest edge. “If any of us dived into shit expecting talent to get us out, what would you say?” “It could’ve been a bad call,” Hank said evenly, “but it was mine to make.” “Yeah.” Donnie rubbed his head. “But let’s not ever do that again, OK?”



These whumplets were inspired by a variety of prompts – Whumptober 2019 and 2020, Febuwhump 2022, and a few other individual prompts.  Many of these include doodles from the talented pen of @whumpadoodle! Prior to In the Wind:

Stab Wound – They say you might not even notice at first.

Recovery – Post-whump healing with a side of friendly mockery.

Run – Cade finds a bottle with his knee.

Secret Injury – Please don’t tell Hank.

Grief – A tragedy in Cade’s past. [CW: parent death]

Rescue – Who would win: two Memphis crooks, or Cade and one helpful stranger?

Stitches – You’re looking a little green, Cade.

Gunpoint – Sometimes the skip finds you.

Explosion – Wrong place, wrong time.

Disorientation – Post-explosion, Cade deals with ringing ears and suspicious cops.

Human Shield – It’s not stupid if it works.

Sticks and Stones – Donnie and Cade make a good team.

Blindness – The lights go out at the Orpheum.

Hospital – Cade would like to go home now.

  Between In the Wind and Wind Shear:

Fade to Sunrise - A necessary detour to South Carolina.

Hospital. Now. - Cade reluctantly follows Hank’s orders.

Tear-stained – Nightmares are the worst.

Shaky Hands – A stranger notices Cade’s not doing well.

Humiliation – Cade never talks about what happened...except to Liz.

Muffled Scream – The uncontainable rage at feeling broken.

Trembling – Cade tries to treat a panic attack with alcohol.

Used as an experiment - The alcohol experiment has predictable results.

No Anesthesia – Donnie has opinions about Cade’s behavior.

Asphyxiation – Trying to get a choke hold on Cade is NOT recommended.

Dragged Away – Moderation? I don’t know her.

Scars – This date is not going well. [CW: suicidal ideation]

“Stay with me” – Amy knows Cade needs to talk. (comfort followup to Scars)

Baby Steps – Desensitization is good, but proceed carefully.

  “Deleted scene” from Wind Shear (actually written later): Paranoia – It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.

  After Wind Shear: Exhaustion – It’s been a really long day.

Revealed - Donnie is always the strong one.

Postscript - Three days later, Hank has questions.

Embrace – Fluffy comfort with Cade & Liz; recovery from trauma.

Talking is Overrated – Recovery from a virus; Liz is the best.

Migraine – Liz doesn’t mind playing caretaker...

Secrets - ...because sometimes she needs one too.

Scarf – Cade and Liz find a plot hook.

Gunpoint/Forced to Their Knees – Donnie takes a calculated risk.

Context: Taking a break here from the last three days’ storyline.  This one’s in the Cadeverse, the morning after Wind Shear concludes, referencing events in Undertow, chapter 8 specifically.

~~~

Donnie didn’t want to be awake this early. Rest was key to recovery, and getting over yesterday would take some time. Unfortunately, his shoulders ached in whatever position he lay in, unless he was flat on his back, and that was like lying on a barbeque grill. He levered himself out of bed, his breath hissing through his teeth as every bruise and overworked muscle made itself known. Ibuprofen would be on the breakfast menu again. Yum.

A splash of cold water from the bathroom sink helped him feel more human. Even with his eyes averted from the mirror, he could sense the red stripes curving around his ribs. Just surface irritation; it would heal.

He returned to his bedroom and found one last clean pair of jeans in his dresser. He put them on gingerly, like an old man with vertigo. Even his hands hurt. The T-shirt drawer was empty. Right, he’d thrown a load in the dryer right before everything went to hell yesterday. He grinned at the surreal idea of his shirts placidly drying themselves while he was being dragged off to East Nowhere. He opened his bedroom door quietly and cocked an ear at the stairs. Cade and Liz were probably still asleep on the crash pad...separately or together; not his business either way. He walked past the kitchen and opened the dusty closet that held the laundry machines, where the T-shirts waited in a dry, wrinkled pile. He rooted through them until he found one with long sleeves and worked it over his head, careful not to scrape the fabric against his back. Job accomplished, he turned around—and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Holy shit, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Liz stood at the top of the stairs, with sleep-tousled hair and wide eyes. “I...I’m sorry,” she said. “I heard you moving around up here, and...and I...” Donnie told his heart rate to settle down. “No worries,” he apologized. “I thought you two were still asleep, so I wasn’t expecting to see someone standing there, that’s all.” “Cade’s still asleep,” Liz said. “Donnie...what happened to you?” Shit. She’d seen it. “Looks bad, huh?” She nodded wordlessly. Great. He hadn’t planned to talk about it. “Do you want some coffee?” He beckoned her into the kitchen and busied himself with coffee grounds and water. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise. One of the Reaves goons wanted to know about Tara and the laptop, so he asked me with a belt. It’s fine, though. In a day or two, you won’t be able to tell.” “We never asked if you were OK,” she said, stricken. “I was so worried about Cade, I never thought to ask you. I’d never have guessed...but why didn’t you say anything?” “Not worth bringing up,” he said. Water gurgled and began to drip into the pot. He turned back to her and smiled, keeping his posture relaxed. “Don’t worry about it. Cade asked if I was OK before we came back to Memphis.” “What did you tell him?” “I said I was fine.” She frowned, unconvinced. He’d have to try a different tactic. “Liz, I need to ask you a favor. I don’t want Cade to know about...what you saw just now.” Her concerned expression deepened. “Why not?” “You know Cade; he’d feel guilty as hell. It would eat at him, especially because he can’t do anything about it now. It’s not something he can fix. And really, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be sore for a day or two. That’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing,” Liz said. “You two are friends. You’d want him to be honest with you, wouldn’t you, about something like that?” She had a point. If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just Cade he was protecting. Donnie never let anyone see him in pain, not unless the person was someone he completely trusted. Very few people qualified. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest thing, but habit was habit. The coffee finished filling the carafe, and he poured two mugs. “Last night, when I asked you why you and Cade weren’t dating, you said, It’s complicated. It was super rude of me to be all up in your business like that, and I’m about to do it again.” He handed her one of the mugs. “Have you talked to Cade about that complication, whatever it is?” She looked away and shook her head. “Then you get it,” he said gently. “Even with friends...there are some things you want to keep to yourself.”