Politely non-invasive though she was being, there were flashes of experience behind Shockwave's words that Emma couldn't entirely avoid seeing. Uniformed humans, the memory of them rimed with cold contempt. A flourishing Cybertron and a parade of Cybertronian faces accompanied by waves of anger or love, and all of them by a vast sorrow. The sense of an unimaginable gulf of time in which something had been lost.

...A bench?

"You tell me," she said, not trying to interpret the disjoint images she was getting. Without reading deeper, it would be a futile exercise, inevitably tainted by her own emotions and experiences. "I pulled you for a time-out because fusion cannons and nervous breakdowns don't mix, but I'm doing you the courtesy of not poking about without permission. Why were you having a violent fit in a dead city?"