A/N: This is a companion story to my other BBM fanfic Post Mortom. Reading that one first is by no means necessary, but it would make this one make a whole lot more sense. If you've already read Post Mortom, enjoy the side of the story Suzann can't very well tell.

Garden-Earth date October, 1983 CE

Jack had broken down by the side of the road; the old truck had finally given out. A few of local guys who were passing by stopped and volunteered to help, but...

Jack felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, c'mon man."

The voice was unfamiliar and young and seemed awfully far away. Everything seemed far away. Far away and too damn still.

Jack felt like he was in a daze within a dream. He saw his loyal, old, green truck, hood up, one tire flat, and he saw – what was that? It looked like a person. It looked like him, but it couldn't be. Could it? If he was here, then he couldn't be over there, right? Besides, he wasn't... Was he?

"Hey." The hand on Jack's shoulder shook him; the unfamiliar young voice was gentle, has it had been before, but there was an edge of insistence to it. "C'mon."

Jack turned away from the confusing and rather disturbing scene before him to look at the person speaking to him. It was a young man, not long out of high school, assuming he had graduated. He had long-ish strawberry-blond hair so wavy it was almost curly. His dark green eyes were serious and intense, but gentle and concerned, foreboding yet reassuring. He was wearing a dark grey shirt tucked into black slacks held up by a chain belt of brushed nickle, silvery-grey work boots and a black vest. A brushed nickle badge in the shape of an hourglass was pinned to his vest over his heart. A thin loop of braided pewter wire rested in his coppery hair.

"You need to come with me; you shouldn't stat here."

Jack nodded. It was true, he shouldn't stay here; he needed to get help, call Lureen...

The young man took his hand from Jack's shoulder, and Jack noticed he was wearing a silver ring set with a shard of black glass. He took hold of Jack's wrist and tugged him away from the truck and lifeless human form thereby.

Jack took a single step and the world fell away to a white hot, searing, frigid blackness.

A/N: Yes, it's short, but there's more to come, I promise.

If you have no effing clue what's going on, don't worry, neither does Jack. If you have some idea to a pretty good idea of what's going on, you're mighty observant. If you freaking know what's going on, you're mighty observant, quite familiar with both the cannon and Post Mortom, and good at doing a fair bit more than just putting two and two together.

If you're in that last group, or you think you are, drop a comment, let me know, 'cause you're amazing. Even if you don't fit that description, drop a comment to let me know what you think!

Happy fanficing!