“Nice to meet you Summer.. What a beautiful name.” He kept his smile, despite the lack of a return. “What brings you to this part of town?”
“I’m just wandering. Running away.” She shrugged a shoulder, wondering why this stranger, of all people, should care to talk to her. Was the darkness written on her face so clearly then, that anyone could see it?
He blinked. “Running away? Now.. Why are you running away, mm?” Jack put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “What would a pretty girl like yourself be running away from?”
Another shrug. “Myself. They say hell is other people. It’s not. Hell is yourself.” Summer looked up at the man — Jack Harkness, he’d called himself — a world of aching sadness in her face. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, but thanks for asking.”
“Yourself?” He started to frown slightly, his own thoughts going about what she’d just said. “…You are right, Summer, Hell is yourself. But, you can’t let that control your actions.. you can ask for help.” He shrugged, not really knowing what else to say about the subject. His hand dropped from her shoulder and he sighed.
“I’m the help,” she told Jack. “People don’t help me, I help them. It’s the way it works. I accept that. I just — sometimes I have to get away. I have to run and hope I can run fast enough to escape myself.” Reaching out, Summer touched Jack’s arm. “Please don’t let my hurting make you hurt. I couldn’t bear that.”