The sound of the waves soothed her aching mind and heart as her thoughts chased themselves around and around after her conversation with Joshua Joyce. Kicking off her shoes, Wanda took a moment to enjoy the feel of the wet, cool sand beneath her feet as eddies of water swirled up to her ankles before receding again. She squinted up into the bright blue sky, taking in how the sun brushed the tops of the turquoise waves.

This place was a paradise, complete with powder white sand. So, why then, did she feel so anxious?

She slipped her hand into her pocket and was half-startled when her fingers brushed against a small piece of folded card stock: Joyce's card. Wanda took it out, not really seeing it as she turned it end over end in a nervous movement.

"Hey…I know you."

Wanda jumped at the sound of Joyce's voice. Turning her back to the ocean she was startled to find herself gazing not into Joyce's oversized glasses, but rather up into two brilliant blue optics. As the sunlight winked off of burnished yellow paint, the truth hit her: it was a recording.

Bumblebee knelt down slowly in the sand, careful to keep his movements slow and to keep his distance. With a chirp he played another clip for her, "Just looking for…some friendly conversation."

Her heart pounded in her throat as the reality of her situation closed in around her. Wanda spoke quietly, knowing he would hear her regardless, "You were there…you heard everything." She was alone, in unfamiliar territory with a 17-foot-tall robot—a 17-foot-tall killing machine—between her and any chance of help.

With another chirrup, Bumblebee nodded, "I'm here to help, not to hinder." Bee replayed Joyce's words again, and Wanda closed her eyes against them.

"Please…stop doing that."

This time John Wayne's slow drawl echoed over to her, "Sure thing, partner."

Wanda took a cautious step forward, "You can't speak, can you? Is that why you're using recordings?"

Bumblebee nodded, answering with another sound-bite: "Roger, Roger."

Wanda swallowed thickly, regarding the titan before her, unsure of what to do or say. Bumblebee didn't need one of Ratchet's medical scanners to know that the slight human before him was anxious. He could read it in the tight muscles of her shoulders, the stiff way she held herself, her shallow breathing gave evidence to her elevated heart rate. With a soft warble, he read the fear in her eyes. It was like this with so many humans—even Sam had been afraid at first—so he wasn't surprised. Yet, that didn't change the fact that her fear still hurt. He hated that even after all of this time, humanity still instinctively feared them, still looked at them first as killing machines, as interlopers...alien monsters. Pushing away the age-old spark wound, Bumblebee regarded the human before him now. Slowly, offering her cheerful chirps and clicks, Bumblebee settled himself into a kneeling position. His posture telling her that while he was no threat to her, neither was he going anywhere, anytime soon. Relaxing his wing-like doors, he shuttered his wide, blue optics at her in an Autobot blink. Attempting at humor, he selected another sound-bite, this time from an outdated and campy alien movie, "We come in peace." The ironic mock alien voice echoed over to her.

Wanda couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of her lips at that. With another happy chirp, Bumblebee noted some of the tension left her shoulders. But when she regarded him once more, it was with a somber gaze.

"So…what happens now?" She asked stiffly, "You go tell Optimus that I was talking with Joyce? That I might be some sort of spy here to give away information on you?"

Bumblebee blinked slowly again, "Are you?"

Wanda squinted up at the yellow Autobot, it was so hard to tell from the audio clips that he used, but if she was reading him right, Bumblebee wasn't here to condemn her. He had sought her out to listen to her. Moreover, she read no aggression in his posture or gaze. Slowly she shook her head, "No…your leader offered us shelter and protection. Your kind is giving us a safe space…I couldn't repay that by betraying you like that. I'm…I'm not a…"

Monster.

The word hung in the silence between them.

It was the same pain. The aching and gnawing hurt, the fear that all anyone would ever see when they looked at her would be a monster. She hunched her shoulders against the memories of Lagos, of the screams, the pleas for help, the ash that burned her eyes, her throat, her heart. Once again, she heard Vision's lament, "Do you see? It was as I said…disaster." Unshed tears burnt at the back of her eyes, a fiery insistence, and Wanda closed them against the urge. What she wouldn't give to have Vision here with her, to have a friend who just looked at her as that: a friend. Sure, Nat was her friend, just as Steve and all the others were, too. But even when Nat looked at her, there was a reserve, a distance that could quite be breached. Not that it was Wanda's fault, that's just how the skilled former-assassin was with everyone; Romanov didn't trust anyone. There would always be that barrier between her and Romanov. Just as there would always be an unbreachable divide between her and Steve. He'd listen to her, sure, but he was too much the soldier, too much the commander. While they could be friends, Rogers would always retreat to the safe distance befitting of a leader. He would draw the line because he needed to keep a clear head and heart to lead. But Vision…he was different. He looked at her as a friend first and fellow warrior second... he saw her heart. That's what she needed right now, what she missed…having a friend who would just be there for her, would just listen to Wanda the person, and not just see Scarlet Witch, the Avenger.

Bumblebee chirped and clicked again, drawing her out of herself.

Unless…

Wanda looked up at the alien titian. He sat, waiting patiently, and she wondered—dared to hope—perhaps his silence was offering just want she needed: a friend to listen.

"Did you know…" Bumblebee looked away from her for the first time, his baby-blue optics trained upward to the expanse of the cloudless sky, "At night…sometimes you can still see…my home…"

Recognizing the offer of conversation, Wanda took a handful of tentative steps toward where the Autobot knelt in the soft sand. "Do you miss it?" She dared to ask. Sound clip or not, she recognized that note of longing in his timber, that same ache of loneliness resonated within her. How could she not respond to it?

Bumblebee looked back down at her, nodded somberly, piecing together more audio clips, "Ain't it grand? —this place…called Earth…but it is still…not home."

A small smile faintly tugged at the corner of her lips, "I know what you mean." She was close enough now to hear the soft whirr and clicks as the mechanisms in his optics worked to track her movements. "I'm from Earth, and sometimes I don't even recognize it as home."

"I'm sorry."

It occurred to her then, that he meant it. In that moment she remembered Steve's words to the Autobot Leader: Trust goes both ways. She allowed the memory to fill her, to enable her to strap steel to her spine as she closed the remaining distance between herself and the Autobot. Muscles tense as she ruthlessly pushed away the instinct to run, Wanda moved to sit beside Bumblebee, close enough that her shoulder briefly brushed against one of the yellow bot's panels.

"I'm sorry, too." She offered as she looked up at him. So close, he truly loomed above her, and she felt so vulnerable, so insignificant. Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, she worked to offer him a smile, "I'd like to hear about what your home was like…"

"And what about yours?"

She let out a breath as some of the tension drained from her, feeling relieved in the charity that they had apparently struck with one another, "Sounds fair…but you first, because I asked first."

Bumblebee warbled in agreement, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…"

Wanda snorted out a laugh at that. At first it took quite a bit of focus to follow Bumblebee's story as he shifted from various clips to give form to his narrative. But it didn't take long for her to adjust to his unique language; it felt natural and Wanda found solace in the cadence-and in the company. She lost track of time as they sat together, exchanging first stories about their homes, and then slowly friends.

Having shifted so that she now sat facing him directly, Wanda snorted out another laugh, "So you really did that to a federal agent?" She asked incredulous.

Bumblebee shrugged, "It was just…a little diesel…"

She grinned, "No wonder this Agent Simmons was so mad!" It felt good to laugh again, to smile. Feeling at ease for the first time since they had arrived, Wanda let her gaze drift over the water, noticing for the first time that twilight was descending upon them, burnishing the waves in molten hues.

"We should probably head back and check in…" She said heavily, less than eager to see Lennox and the other members of N.E.S.T. How well she knew there would be repercussions for her actions. There was always a price to be paid.

Following her, Bumblebee stood, buzzing sharply as he shifted from ped to ped, endeavoring to shake free the grains of sand that had crept into his ankle struts. At first Wanda had flinched at the harsh sound—it was the first she had heard him make, having grown accustomed to just the friendly light clicks and whistles she now associated with him. She was quick to recognize it wasn't an aggressive sound, but rather one of discomfort. Wanda moved instinctively, without consciously deciding to do so, "Here…hold still, I'll help…" Kneeling beside him she reached into the ankle joint, gingerly brushing out the remaining errant bits of sand. It occurred to her then, as she dusted, that all Bumblebee had to do was lift his ped and her fingers would be crushed in an instant. She risked a glance up at him, wondering if she had perhaps over stepped a boundary. But when he chirped in thanks, she knew he wouldn't move a piston: he trusted her. Turning back to the gears, she smiled to herself, as she finished brushing out the last remnants of sand. Lifting her hand free, she took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her jeans and stood up. "Better?"

He bobbed his head and gave her a thumbs up.

"Hey Bumblebee?" Wanda reached into her pocket, hand closing over the card that Joyce had given her. Without hesitation she offered it out to him, "Here…I won't be needing this."

He hesitated, regarding her and the small business card. "What about…some friendly conversation?"

Even at the sound of Joyce's voice being replayed, Wanda didn't waiver, "I have a feeling he isn't the sort of friend I need—or want."

She watched, marveling at how deftly his fingers worked as he took the small card from her, moving deftly and gingerly. At the brush of metal against her skin she recalled how similarly gentle he had been when he held Lennox's daughter, Annabelle… Bumblebee leapt forward, his large hands closing over her, swallowing her completely from view as they engulfed her tiny body. With a chorus of whistles and chirps he tucked into a tidy somersault.

When Bumblebee first moved…Wanda had tensed, fearful that the alien robot would indeed attempt to pick the small child up. When those large, crushing fists closed around her… Wanda gasped, fearful that in his hands the fragile girl wouldn't stand a chance. But calm and collected, Lennox hadn't even flinched…

The yellow Autobot could have crushed Annabelle, could have done it without a thought, with a token amount of force…but he hadn't. Not just because he had calibrated his grip to be firm, yet gentle enough to pick up the small girl, but rather because he had no intention of harming her. The Autobot genuinely cared for Annabelle. The revelation opened Wanda's eyes to a greater realization: the yellow Autobot genuinely cared for all of them. So much power, unbridled strength, and yet for all of that, he really was a gentle spirit. There was more to him—more to all of his kind—than just unyielding metal alloys and firepower. Maybe, just maybe, they had more in common than she had supposed.

"Need a lift?" He offered breaking her train of thought.

Before she could answer, he stepped away, fluidly transforming into his terrestrial guise, opening the driver side door for her in invitation. It was her choice. She knew it was more than just a ride back to the base that was being extended. Trust goes both ways…Wanda reached out, her fingertips dancing along the top of the door panel before she stepped inside and sank into the offered seat. As she watched the steering wheel turn of its own volition, guided unerringly by the being that surrounded her, Wanda thought of all the friends she had lost… and those she had found along the way. He could probably level an entire city if he wanted to…then again, so could she. Yet for all that power and strength, there was almost a humanity to him; a yearning for friendship, a sincere caring for those around him… enough tenderness to care for a human child. That gave her pause. Hadn't she known what it was to be so desperately lonely? To feel as if there was no one else who could, who would even want to be a friend? Someone to listen, to talk to and care for? If he was a walking weapon, so was she.

And yet…

And yet if that was true…it was also true that they weren't alone anymore, but more importantly, that they didn't have to be alone anymore.