Consumptive Courtesy Call

A gentle chime plays, stirring you to consciousness as a digital voice says, “Good morning. You have been in suspension for--”

“HELLO?” You hear loud banging on a door, drowning out the automated announcement. As you finally open your eyes, you come to realize you are lying on a bed in a motel room. At least, something that looks like one. A truly unnatural amount of light is coming through the ‘windows’ and there’s a monitor hanging from the ceiling that reads “WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES”.

As you start trying to get up out of bed, you get the feeling you have been laying down far too long. Something that’s supported by the deep you-shaped imprint in the memory foam mattress. The knocking comes again, along with a rather obnoxiously loud, British-accented, “HELLOOOO? Is anyone in there?” You end up staring blankly at the door for a moment, still trying to recover from being asleep. He knocks some more and continues, “Are you going to open the door?” The more direct question gets you to move towards the door, but before you can actually reach it, he suddenly says, “Oh wait, I can just--”

The door suddenly slams open, whizzing within an inch of your face before banging against the wall. A cycloptic robot stumbles forward, headbutting you and knocking you to the ground. From above, you can hear him say, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He stands above you, arms halfway between surrender and reaching to help. Now you can notice his looks: rather widely built, to say the least. Thick legs and arms with big rubber-tipped digits, and an even larger torso. His belly hangs out, nearly bumping into your head again as he reaches down. He’s wearing a floral blue and white Hawaiian shirt, which is trying very hard to hold that belly of his in. Between the buttons, you can see that his middle is rubbery too-- at least until his chest, which is more metal. And finally, on top is a large metal ball, glowing blue optic with eyelid shutters and what looks like handlebars below and above it, despite their flexibility.

“Here, uuup you go!” He grabs your hand and pulls you up, raising you back to a standing position. He looks you up and down, as if verifying that you didn’t break anything on the way down. “Are you okay? You look okay to me! Sorry about that, it was just-- the door, you see-- well, to be honest, this is my first time opening a door. With my hands. No electronics involved! Well, I mean, besides me. Oh, yes, sorry, the name is Wheatley! I’m what people around here call a sphere.”

He pauses a moment. Then he glances down at himself and back up at you and says, “Oh! No, not because of that. You see, usually I’m just, well, this head part. Riding around on rails, no freedom at all. Depressing, really. But!” He puts his hands on hips, standing proudly and seemingly beaming. You suddenly become aware that he has a tail, a rather thick one that’s excitedly swishing behind him. “One day, I found this! Just laying around, can you believe it? And, oh, it feels so nice to have a body. I mean you must know what that’s like all the time, but I’ve never had one!

“AH wait, I’m acting like a proper bellend. I can shake your hand now!” He doesn’t wait, leaning forward and grabbing your hand so he can shake it. “Now, what’s your name? Oh, wait, actually DON’T tell me! I can find out myself now!”

Wheatley scoots by you and starts digging around in the dresser under the television. "It should be in here somewhere... You see, all the employees, the organic ones anyway, they put all these things in places we can't reach! Files, drawers, it's really quite cruel." You watch as he fumbles through the top drawer, then the next, tossing out random clothes and other junk that you're sure aren't yours. It's not until he's halfway through the bottom drawer, tossing papers on the floor that he seems to perk up. "Aha! See, all the way down here!" He pulls out a thin folder and kicks the drawer back in. "I could never hope to reach this from my rail. Couldn't even open it, really... Just criminal!"

He immediately opens the folder and looks across your personal file. “Let’s see, let’s see... ‘Your name here’? Well that doesn’t make any sense now does it? I doubt you’re named Wheatley too, that would just be weird. And a bunch of numbers... Hmm... How about... Fivey! Ha ha, Fivey has a good ring to it!” You try to tell him neither of those are actually your name, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s beaming at his own nickname for you, since after all, “Those numbers would really be a mouthful, wouldn’t they?”

After a few moments, a thought seems to cross his mind. “Ah! The reason I’m here. You should know... Well, things are a bit dire around here. You see, it has been... quite a long time since you entered suspension, and things are sort of falling apart, but no need to panic: I’m here! I’ll get us out of here, Fivey.” He looks up at the ceiling and blinks. “Hm. You know, just one problem, there’s a panel up there I need to access, but I don’t think I could fit in there with my new body.”

A few seconds later he looks back down at you and says, “You don’t suppose you could give me a lift, could you? ...No? Alright. I suppose I am a bit heavy. All this metal. Not necessarily because of my... size. And really, a lift probably wouldn’t help too much, since I’m a couple inches taller than you. Not that this is a competition.”

He scratches his head for a moment, trying to consider what to do as an alternative, and at the same time amusing himself by being able to perform such a gesture. “Maybe if I get up on the bed...” With some effort after struggling to raise a leg high enough to do so, he manages to climb onto it. He wobbles immediately, holding his arms and tail out as he tries to regain balance. Wheatley nervously chuckles, “N-Not very solid at all, is it? Well, it is a bed. If I could just...” He starts trying to reach up to a panel on the ceiling, rather precariously. Moments later, he exclaims “W-WHOA!” as he falls right towards you.

There’s a moment you might have assumed you were dead, if not for the crushing weight on your chest. You could at least be thankful nothing felt broken, yet. Most of Wheatley’s body was splayed across yours, with the two of you closely face-to-face on the floor and blue light washing over you. He uneasily laughs with an embarrassed expression. “A bit close together, aren’t we? A little awkward. At least you seem alive, thanks to my soft-as-a-pillow, er, belly. You are alive, right? ...Oh, air!” He lets out another nervous chuckle, “I suppose I’m just crushing the wind out of ya. I should be thankful I don’t have to breathe in this body, because-- oh, sorry. Sorry, let me just...”

He pushes himself off the ground, dusting himself off before bending back down to pick you up. “There we go, right as rain. No internal damage...? I’m going to assume no internal damage. Because if you do... well, there’s not exactly any medical staff left. Or anyone, really. So... hopefully you don’t.” He sighs, putting his hand on his head again and closing his eye. “Okay, let me think.”

Wheatley mutters some ideas to himself for a minute, leaving you just awkwardly standing there doing nothing as he does. Then, finally, “AHA! Alright, I have an idea. I’m not going to lie, it is a little risky. But if we stay here, we will both die, so... Just trust me, alright? The plan is this: I’m going to carry you out of here, thanks to my new handsome body. I can still ride the rails, mostly, so I can get us out of here.” He glances aside as he continues, “There iiiiiiis just one little problem, but it’ll be okay. I am absolutely, ninety-nine percent sure that it will probably not be a big deal.”

He watches your face for a response, then just claps his hand together. “Okay, good, great! Now, let’s get out of here. Could you just- could you just turn around for a moment? I just need to do something and I, uh, can’t do it while you’re watching.”

Reluctantly, you eventually oblige. From behind you, “Tremendous. Now just hold still,” and before you can really process those words, you’re engulfed by something. You can’t tell how exactly, but you can feel metal all around you and Wheatley’s hands tight on your sides. Around or very close to you, he says, “Stay calm! Just stay calm!” As he does, you’re pulled down into a tight, rubbery tube. He mutters, “Oh god, that feels bizarre...” Then, more directed, “Look, okay, this is my first time trying this. And I didn’t immediately crush you so I think we’re off to a pretty good start. Just stay still!”

He continues, pulling you down and in more while trying to manage your movements. The journey is an uncomfortable squeeze, passing other moving parts within him. All the while, he mutters complaints about his personal discomfort and difficulties with swallowing you whole like this. Soon enough, you find yourself entering a more spacious area-- relatively, anyway. As your body fills it, it becomes significantly more cramped, but still more comfortable than his ‘throat’. The walls are soft and pliable, almost cushiony. When the last of you slides inside him, you hear a sigh of relief from above.

At the same time, as you finish filling him, there’s a loud ping and Wheatley shouts, “OW, bloody-- look what you’ve done to my favorite shirt! My only shirt! You know how hard it is to find shirts around here? Maybe I could sew... ah, I don’t even know where those buttons went. Still. Rather rude.” You can feel his hand rub over part of you from outside, across the bulging shape you’ve made. “Whoof. Bigger than I expected, but I managed. You okay in there? Still squirming around I see. It’s really uncom-- actually, no, wait... this feels pretty nice! Ah, it’s like you’ve filled this big empty space in my heart. Except, I don’t have a heart, it’s more like my stomach. I don’t have a stomach either, I don’t know what you’re in exactly. Point is, my plan’s working even better than expected!”

He pats each side of his belly rather appreciatively, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice as he continues, “Alright, now the only thing is, you may have put me over the weight limit of the rail. Didn’t consider that. But it’s okay, I’m pretty sure we can still get out. It might just be a bit slower, is all.” He starts to move, causing your soft prison to sway around as he does. “Ohhh, that’s just incredible. I could stay like this forever. Well, not here. Oh, not with you! In there I mean. Unless you wanted to. Then maybe we can set up a contract to rent the space."

Even if it was getting to be warm on account of your body being in the cramped space, things were surprisingly comfortable inside Wheatley's guts. Probably his body's natural cooling. You can even stretch out for a moment until his 'stomach' snaps back. Wheatley says, "Bloody hell, you're a feisty one, aren't you? But don't let me stop you. In fact, stretch out to your heart's desire, because it feels positively great when you do that. Mmm. Oh, but don't do it right now because I have to try and squeeze through this door."

After a couple seconds more, you feel two hard lines trying to squeeze you together from outside. They disappear and then return, but never get too far. Wheatley complains, “Could you- could you just... tuck in a little more? This doorway, well, it’s simply not very accessible. Nnngh...” He tries squeezing more a few more times. Then there's finally a loud crack and you swing forward while Wheatley yells.

He catches himself quickly, fortunately. “Ha... haha! Wow, I know you can’t see this, but I just managed to save us from very certain death. You’re welcome. The doorframe gave up on me, shoddy workmanship, really. Now, we will simply ride my management rail very slowly and trust that its weight limit is high. Really, it is risky to have a body with all these bottomless pits, don’t know how you do it. Now, just... be very still, please. It feels good, but it won’t feel good if we fall and die.”

Some time later, probably less than an hour, the two of you reached solid ground once more. “Finally! God, my neck was killing me. You’re heavy, you know that? At least we managed to get here in one piece, thanks to my quick cunning. I suppose I can let you out now, can’t I? No reason to keep you in ol’ Wheatley. In my robot belly. All nice and comfortable and warm and... satisfying and filling and...” He nervously chuckles, rubbing a hand over his own belly. Testing how much he can push his hand in, chuckling some more each time you move.

“You know what, actually? I think I should leave you in there. You seem comfortable, yeah?” He ignores your response and continues, “And not just because of that! Or my own, erm, enjoyment. You see, Aperture is a really dangerous place. Anything could happen to you out here. But I know this place like the back of my hand. So, it’s probably for the best if we just stick together, like this. No need to worry about anything, I’ve got it all taken care of.”

He starts walking and continues to ramble, “Air, check, water... Well I’ve never drank water before, but I can do it now. Probably. Food too, never eaten food. Well, I still wouldn’t really be eating, being a robot and all. Enrichment, this is an enrichment center, so double check... Yeah, all sounds good to me!” He pats on you, roughly where your head is, letting out a pleased hum. “You can just stay nice and snug in there. Wheatley’s got your back... well, the rest of you, too! And listen, no limit on this stay. As long as you want. Or until it’s safe. No charge! It’s quite a deal, really.”

He takes a seat somewhere, then his arms squeeze you tight through his gut as he embraces it. He lets out that same pleased hum again, though it’s more audible with his head laying on his own belly. “Really glad I rescued you, Fivey.” You can hear the gears in his head, in his body all quietly turning. The synthetic material all around you creaks and squeaks subtly with each movement of yours, holding you snug in your entirety. It’s dark and a comfortable temperature, almost inviting you to sleep. And really, you were going to be here a long, long time it seemed... So you might as well settle in.