Rebirth
It was clear from the first moment why this body had been chosen: the poor sap had let someone hook his central nervous system up to a series of plugs, which seemed to pulse as the data streamed through them. As his consciousness took root in the new shell, other things came to the AI's attention… The familiar humming of mechanical parts hammered through the thin chest, as well as his new arms and legs (one each). He easily recognized the sharp, quick pinpricks of data which were wires, and felt the stretch and pull of rubber in synthetic skin. At the same time, he could feel the contrast between the machine and the organic. True skin didn't feel rubbery to the nerves within it, which ached where they connected to the wires. The vibration of the plugs made his back tickle, a sensation he'd never experienced before. The metal parts were cold, but only felt that way where they overlapped with the original flesh of the human.
For the first time, he realized just how different he really was from his friend.
A feather-light brush at the edge of his attention drew it to this new mind. Brain damage had rendered the human's personality and free will to rust long ago, but it still held the imprints of various memories. The smiling face of a child, of which he felt strangely protective, a dull tan jumpsuit, cold, hard catwalks…
...
He didn't know how long he'd been down here, but was sure, on some level, that it was worth it. All the evenings he couldn't eat, left dry heaving over the toilet by whatever gel they'd exposed him to that day, all the snapped fingers, toes, and wrists, the sprained ankles, and the minor concussions, even the thinly veiled insults the scientists sent his way constantly, it was all worth it. This job was paying sixty dollars a day, and he'd asked them to send it to his home address, since he didn't need it right now. Knowing that for every night he spent miserably in the cold, sterile bathroom his brothers and sisters had food on the table (maybe not the best, but at least it was probably edible) and his mother would have to work that many hours less to pay the bills…those things made it worth it.
The sound of the intercom started him out of his reverie. He was a bit of a dreamer, he knew, and had heard that damn recording about "hustle!" more times than he cared to count. However, this one was different.
"If you're interested in an additional $60, flag down a test associate and let them know. You could walk out of here with 120 weighing down your bindle, if you'll let us take you apart, put some 'Science Stuff' in you, and put you back together. Good as new."
He hesitated for a moment. He didn't know about any of the other people who'd ripped the contact information tag off the flyer, but an additional sixty dollars sounded awfully tempting. The rest though…he didn't trust these people to know a potato from a lemon, let alone poke around with his insides. He shook his head and kept going.
. . .
"In case you're interested, there's still some positions available for that bonus opportunity I mentioned earlier. Again: all you gotta do is let us disassemble you; we're not banging rocks together here, we know how to put a man back together. So, that's a complete reassembly, new vitals, spit-shine on the old ones, plus we're scooping out tumors. Frankly, you ought to be paying us."
He glanced up at the viewing platform and pictured those small, squinty-eyed people huddled over his motionless body. With a shudder, he shook his head and moved on to the next test.
. . .
"Okay, folks, new proposition: we've got a new project we're working on, and need to find out just how compatible this tech is. If you've been using that portal gun, let me tell you right now, it is much more dangerous than what we're suggesting. So, much the same as the last opportunity, off those tracks, let us install a few chunks of metal in your non-vital systems, and just see where it goes from there. For every piece of tech you sign up for, extra sixty dollars on your daily paycheck. Boom, just like that! So, whaddya say? Worst case scenario, we have to take it back out in a few days. Best case, you're Iron Man!"
There was a man by the elevator, waiting for an answer. He paused for a long moment, still not wanting to hand over the rights to his body to anyone, but his family's faces flickered beneath his lids, and he forced himself to look friendly. He swallowed and walked up to the scientist.
"Um, hi. Is there any chance that thing, on the intercom, just now, any chance it's still open?"
...
The container tipped forwards, dumping the bedraggled man onto the floor. The jumpsuit, peeled to his waist to allow for the wires in his back, was damp and clingy and made him shiver. He coughed for a little while, before looking up to find his friend standing across the room, behind a wall of safety glass.
He dragged his new body to its feet and, leaning heavily on the tables along the way, managed to stumble over to her. The same alien, left-over program which contained the memories directed his legs in how to walk, a boon he was infinitely thankful for. He pressed his single fleshy hand against the clear surface, feeling his face shape itself into a reassuring smile.
"Ch-" For a single second his voice broke, trying to run two vocal patterns a once. He tried again, and was relieved when his own accent came through. "Chell. That's your name, right? Very pretty, wonderful name, strong. Fits you perfectly…" His vocal processor (or whatever it was humans had) felt rusty and broken, but he forced the words to keep coming.
She raised her own hand, matching their palms through the glass. Her eyes softened and she gave him an affectionate smile. "Wheatley," she mouthed, not knowing if he noticed, "You're back."
...A-yup. This is just what came to mind when I saw the prompt. So...cyborg!Wheatley. With a download in the beginning, backstory in the middle, and minor Chelley at the end, in case that wasn't blatantly obvious.
Credit where credit's due: 1) the first two quotes are directly from the game. 2) the idea for the tan jumpsuits came from mikoneyoru(DOT)deviantart(DOT)com/art/1953-Test-Subject-Chip-215210213
Please R&R