Chapter Text
It was going to rain later. Wels could feel it in his hand.
Right hand lifted into the air, a pale shape barely made out in the dimly lit room, long and thick fingers flexing experimentally — a soft wince — as aching scar tissue and ever sore muscles pulled. Clenching his fist softly, Wels lowered his hand and pressed it against his forehead, tired eyes closing.
The room was illuminated only by the faint glow of the outside street lamp, the old bulb buzzing and flickering as it had for months now, the electric hum soft and ever present these late summer nights. The light peeked through the thin curtains Wels had hung up when he first moved in, shoddy pieces of worn blue fabric that did little in keeping the light out, but at least helped to ensure that nobody outside was able to look in.
Clothes littered the floor and half unpacked boxes still remained scattered about his studio apartment. Wels himself laid sprawled out on his mattress on the floor, his quilt tangled around his legs and pillow drooping off the side. The fading warmth of summer's last grip on the season giving way to the cooler air of fall mornings made his skin prickle.
The rain surely was going to hit by the time he headed to work.
Wels groaned.
He had woken hours before his morning alarm, the sound of the Amtrak not yet even a rumble on the horizon. He had dreamed again, the same one as always. Waking with his heart fluttering so hard his chest was sore, nausea curling in his stomach with the taste of bile faint in the back of his throat — he had almost cried out as he woke when the ache in his temple throb. It felt too much like being back on that canvas floor, blinking deliriously under the LED lights that blinded him back when everything had tasted of copper and salt and the sounds of his own hitching gasps wet and choking in his chest; and Xisuma —
No. Now was not the time to think of him.
He had lost that right.
"Fuck," pressing his fist harder against his furrowed brow as if he could push away the resurfacing memories back into his brain, Wels blinked his eyes open, pale blue in the dim morning light. He kept laying there, staring at the water stain that had colored the ceiling of his dingy apartment, white paint bulging and peeling and colored an ugly bruise yellow. He hated that it was going to rain.
He'd have to scoot his mattress over again so the drips wouldn't soak it like last time. What a nightmare.
Rolling over on his side, right hand resting by his face, fingers uncurling and pointer twitching ever so slightly. The muscles in his hand tensed and unclenched in short small spasms, scar tissue in his knuckles making the backs of his hand fat and stiff. He winced softly as he unfurled each finger and stretched them again, five fingers spread outwards before curling inwards again. His pinky twinged with pain.
Wels kept laying there dead to the world as the early morning breathed new life into New York: the sounds of foot steps outside his building shuffling against the beat up pavement, faint honking could be heard already in the distance as early morning commuters began the never ending battle for parking space and lane merges, bird song intertwined with man and machine made noise. The noise lulled him back in and out of faint sleep.
It wasn't until the soft yet steadily growing tremble that took over his apartment did he finally rouse again; the sound of metal on metal and far off holler of the nearby AM Amtrak that had been acting as his morning alarm for months finally reaching his ears. The ugly yellow water spot trembled with the weight of water held back by thin bowing paint, and the rattle of his appliances and furniture as they shook and scraped against the old floor as the train neared indicating it was time for him to get up. Wels heaved a sigh and swung himself upright, bringing both hands to his ears and pressing hard as the train quickly zoomed overhead, the old building creaking. It was nice that it kept rent low at least.
As soon as the deafening roar faded off to a soft hum, he finally dragged himself up for the day. Grabbing whatever work jeans he had thrown onto the floor and inspecting for mud or dirt stains too egregious to be acceptable before throwing them on, pulling one of his work shirts on and grey hoodie on over it, Wels meandered about his morning with practiced ease. Teeth brushed while his old coffee maker poured into his favorite dented thermos, mismatched socks put on since the laundry monster had eaten his last matching pair, quick browse of the work chat as he sipped and scrolled.
It wasn't until the telltale sound of a truck honking outside his window did he bother jamming his feet into his boots and snatching his keys from the counter as he headed out. Beef was waiting for him outside to take him to work as he had been the last few weeks.
"Wels, buddy! C'mon, we're gonna be late!" Beef hollered, not caring about the loud echoing noise in the early morning disturbing any of the residents at Wels' complex. Most of them were shitheads anyhow. Wels snorted when he heard one of them open up a window to shout at Beef, just earning a louder and longer honk in return.
"'M coming, stop ticking the neighbors off." Wels ambled up to the old work truck, the rusting paint chipping around the wheels and the construction company's sticker comically bright in its neon paint against his dirty red truck. Tossing his bag in to the back and hopping in, Wels didn't even bother looking up at the guy who flipped them both the finger before slamming his window shut.
"Goooood morning, sunshine." Beef sing-songed as he hit the gas, the pickup lurching once before puttering down the road. He didn't even give Wels the chance to finish buckling up before digging into a crumpled brown paper bag, tossing Wels a wrapped up breakfast sandwich he almost dropped right onto the floor. Wels resisted the urge to snort as the other man grinned. Beef was a strange guy. Friendly.
When Wels first came to the city, he really only had what was left in his savings after handing his landlord as much cash as it took for the man to be bribed into letting Wels rent one of the apartments, not even bothering how awful the space had been. His entire life had been packed into boxes and crammed into his car, his move so spontaneous that in his hasty retreat he hadn't even had any plans for what he was going to do or where he was going to live.
He just had to get away.
It wasn't until about a month after settling in to his new place did Wels finally bite the bullet in regards to job hunting, having taken it easy as he floated by on his savings — his stomach still felt sick at times thinking about where those funds came from — and trying to get his bearings. Eventually he had stumbled upon Hoffen's Construction Crew and after a blur of on-boarding and first introductions with too many names to keep straight Wels had found himself shaking the large and calloused hand of Beef.
While Beef was technically his boss he sure didn't feel like it at times as he sometimes acted more like Wels' friend for whatever reason he could not discern. The first few weeks under his management had been normal, a lot more pleasant than his last manager if he were honest, though Beef's casual friendliness and willingness to be the butt of his employees jokes sometimes made Wels confused how such a nice man ever got into a managerial role for a bunch of rough and tumble assholes like himself. But he couldn't complain too much he supposed.
"Morning." he greeted back, giving the sandwich a quick look over.
"Got you a Bacon Egg and Cheese since you don't like the type of sausage patties Jevin uses." Beef always stopped at some local bodega around the construction site to get breakfast sandwiches and protein bars for the crew. It was so sickeningly kind it made Wels feel a little funny and more than a little nervous.
"Oh." his thumb rubbed at the foil, the soft twinges of pain from earlier becoming sharper again. He blinked when his thumb started tapping minutely against the wrapper, the slight tremble with the pain resurfacing. He took a breath and focused on stilling his hand. "You didn't have to do that." Beef waved his off, eyes flicking to his side mirror to check his blind spot before over to his passenger.
"Yeah well, someone's gotta make sure you eat." Wels gave a half hearted shrug at that, not wanting to get into an arguement about this again while already so tired before the day even began. He tried to put the food in his hoodie pocket but Beef made a noise of protest. "Ah-ah! No saving that, buddy. You gotta eat before we get to the site, it's a big one today. I got a ton of food anyways so no point in saving it and letting it get cold."
Hand curling a bit tighter around the bundle, the funny feeling in his stomach turned a bit sharper, slightly more acrid. This - this was actually the one thing about Beef he could complain about. His kindness sometimes became overbearing, little things like remembering things he offhandedly said and constantly bringing it up or doing things just like this — picking Wels up at the ass crack of dawn every day for the last few weeks and shoving some food in his face, trial and error offerings and memorizing their outcomes. Sure, Beef had been kind to him upon first meetings, but in the last month or two it seemed like things suddenly cranked up a notch. Beef now always seemed to have a slightly concerned look in his eyes or nervously hovering close by, sometimes just out of Wels' periphera. It made his skin sometimes crawl the way the older man seemed to peer right through him as if he knew that something was wrong. Or like he knew exactly what was wrong.
Beef's eyes glanced down at his hand for a moment.
Don't think about that.
He clenched his jaw slightly, something a bit defensive, maybe a bit instinctually cruel locked back behind his clenched teeth. He had no right being ungrateful, especially to his manager of all people wasting his time and money on him. Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite, he didn't bother rolling his eyes when Beef let out a soft and happy hum.
Beef was so strange.
The older man fiddled with the radio putting on classic rock as Wels slowly picked away at his breakfast to the soft backdrop of Beef humming some Foo Fighters song off beat, fingers gently drumming the steering wheel.
Coming up to the work site there were only a few cars scattered around the lot, the pair usually one of the first people to arrive in the morning. Beef had said they would be late if Wels had daddled, but to Beef being on time was being late and the pair still had twenty minutes to kill.
Polishing off the last of his sandwich and wadding up the foil into a tight ball, Wels looked to the sky. The sun now crested over the city skyline but its warm amber rays were dulled by the sky's faded grey and swallowed within the clouds. The soft light painted the edges of the clouds yellow and Wels watched as they hung low and heavy in the air. For a moment he tried to see if there were any shapes he could discern as they fluttered through the air.
It was six in the morning. Five back home. Xisuma would be waking up for work soon if he hadn't yet gotten up to go for a run already and Wels wondered if his sky was going to be kinder to him than this.
"Wels?" Beef's voice cut through the silence. He hadn't even noticed the truck's engine had been turned off and the crews' vehicles had pulled up. Beef's brows were pulled together into a worried furrow, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes momentarily more noticeable in the morning's light. "You ok buddy?"
He blinked hard.
His hand hurt.
"Yeah. Sorry." His thumb jittered slightly. "Just noticed it looks like it's going to rain."
The older man kept looking at him in a moment of contemplative silence before nodding just once. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. Hoffen wants us to try and shake a leg today and see how much we can get done before it hits. Supposed to be a pretty big storm so let's get going, okay bud?" He tried to give a supportive smile, exiting the truck with paper bag in hand.
Wels watched as the scattered group of people became a swarm as they honed in on their foreman, easy smiles and exaggerated yawns as they greeted Beef. He was smiling back, easier now than the one he gave Wels. "Morning fellas. Breakfast's on the house," the bag and its contents being passed around. Mumbles of thanks filled the air and the guys dug in happily before the long day ahead of them. Beef always took care of his guys.
Exiting the cab and grabbing his bag from the truck bed Wels kept off to the side while the others all ate and meandered about. He didn't bother watching the ease in which everyone interacted without him, tuning out the sound of everyone's easy conversations and soft laughter. His blue eyes instead trained on the forming rain clouds up above.
There was a pain pinging the inside of his skull and tapping at his temple.
Wels closed his eyes and tilted his head back up to the sky. It hit him suddenly and all at once.
'I forgot to move my mattress,' he remembered. "Well. Shit."