Prompt 014: "I'm very curious about the first time Wheatley looked at himself in a mirror after The Transfer. How did he react?"
Mirrors are not an unfamiliar object. Reflective surfaces of all types were rather prevalent in Aperture's framework (it looked like the architect had a bit of a thing for them, if he's honest), so Wheatley would often see himself as he scooted about on his management rail. He was small, round, very metal. Some odd bits here and there. Handles of some sort. More metal. All centered around a brilliant blue optic. Handsome, yeah?
The Transfer shattered his world. Needless to say, after being so used to his compact robotic body, being stuffed into this fleshy thing comes as quite a shock.
Wheatley is in the bathroom, staring in bewilderment at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Water drips down his naked human body. It slides down the plane of his back, down long, pale legs, down sharp ankles, and blots the towel beneath his feet.
Anxiety about the shower has dissipated (for the most part), and now that he's able to concentrate more clearly, he's not sure if he likes what he sees. There is a human man staring back at him—not a robot, not a personality core, but a man—and it gives him the strangest sense of disconnect. He doesn't associate himself with this reflection. This bloke with the gaunt face, pronounced cheekbones, long nose, and angular jaw shouldn't be him. He shouldn't have soaked brown hair or tendons running down his throat or bones blossoming below his neck.
He brings a hand to his cheek and pushes his fingertips into the skin. It gives way to the pressure; soft, pliable, slightly damp. Nerves beneath pick up on the touch and he can feel it both in his face and in his fingers. There is a whole network of complexity inside of this body, like cords and programming and circuitry, and he finds himself marveling at how similar and different it all is. And it's all his.
His. It's strange to think he has control of this thing, but he does. Hands, arms, legs, feet, chest, face. Muscles, organs, and veins instead of motherboards, nanochips, and CPUs. It's all so foreign and new, and he's starting to feel overwhelmed.
Wheatley's expression has contorted. His brow is knit, his jaw is set, his mouth a thin line, and he can't stop staring at the creature in the mirror that isn't him but somehow is. It's such a jarring thing to see. How does she deal with all of this? How does anyone? How do humans carry on being… well, humans?
With a shuddering sigh, he turns to grab the towel off the rack behind him. As he begins to methodically dab it across his skin (his skin) as she showed him, he can see ladders of ribs peer out at him from the mirror. He's only had the privilege of seeing himself without clothes, so he's not sure if everyone is as scrawny looking as he is or if it's just him.
Is his body attractive? he wonders. Does he have a suitable form as a human? Will people know he's different just from looking? Will they make fun of him? Will he be another moron in this body, too?
Wheatley drapes the towel over his head, pausing once more to look at his reflection.
Time will have to tell.