Because, no matter how strong you are, at some, something will break you.
Chin up. Always the strong soldier. No matter how fucked up the situation got, no matter how screwed they were or how screwed up they became, no matter if it was a question of whether they'd barely make it out with their lives or barely make it back with their sanity, there was simply no room for weakness. None. In the field, she knew her place. She could shield her emotions and push through the pain. She could roll with the punches and use her training and experience to handle whatever the 'gate threw at her. She knew how to be that person no matter what planet, what galaxy, no matter what the mission might bring.
But, she couldn't be that Sam all of the time. She couldn't be that Sam here, on Earth, 24/7. It was hard, it was exhausting, and eventually she knew the facade would crumble and the darkness would take hold. The darkness was vigilant and it was patient. It would lay in wait until they'd come home from the infirmary. It would wait while they ordered take-out, drank beer and watched a movie as if nothing fucked up had happened while they were off-world. Her guys would give her space, let her talk or not, and pretend that the mission had gone off like any other. They'd pretend that she hadn't been hurt so they could avoid facing their helplessness. They would give her one more night of imposed normalcy and think about the consequences of their actions later.
She smiled sadly in the dim light of her hallway. Daniel and Teal'c were now sacked out on the floor and Jack had commandeered the couch. She loved them all, no question. But, tonight it was not enough.
If they weren't here, she'd don her leathers and take her bike out to a seedy little bar she knew on the edge of town. A couple of beers more, a game of pool, and she'd pick some poor schmuck who was only looking for a chance to taste her "fuck me" red lipstick and get himself off with a quickie in the parking lot. That Sam was someone her friends and family had never known but that Sam, was calculating and in control, and knew how to get herself through when she couldn't confide in anyone around her. But, she couldn't be that Sam all of the time, either. The looks, the stares, the whispers, they'd eventually wear her down too.
So she stood there staring into the shadows, a sob caught in her throat, weighing her options. She couldn't handle the darkness tonight. She grabbed another beer from the kitchen and drank half of it in one swallow. It was in that moment as the cold bitterness burned her throat that she knew what she would do. Once in her bedroom, there was no second guessing, no going back. She knew that she wouldn't stop herself and that despite what temporary respite she might feel, it would ultimately only add to the guilt, the shame, and the humiliation that she'd already experienced.
But this was not the first time.
She turned on the shower and downed what was left of her beer, staring at her reflection in the slowly fogging mirror. No. The first time was so long ago, when her mother's death and the anger between her father and brother had left her cold, numb, and alone.
She stepped into the scalding spray and lost herself to the memory.
It was just a knick, barely a scratch, but she watched in fascination as her blood dripped and slowly swirled into the pool of water at her feet. "That's it?"
She looked at the cut on her thigh puzzled by how innocuous it seemed. It should've hurt but it felt no worse than the sting of a paper cut. "It's not so bad," she thought as she placed the knife against her skin for a second time.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed a little harder this time, gasping as she pulled the thin, sharp blade away from her body, the sting and the bite awakening her senses as the water swirled pink at her feet once more.
He'd heard her padding gently from hall to kitchen and back down the hall to her bedroom. He'd listened as the water ran, ears sharp. She had been putting up a great front since her release from the infirmary and in typical fashion, they'd allowed and enabled it. But, a few minutes ago, he'd been sound asleep, comfortable on her living room couch and something had forced him awake and pushed his senses to full alert. Something was strange, different, and very wrong.
She'd been in there for almost half an hour when he couldn't fight his feelings any longer and found himself practically running to her bedroom. He found her sitting in the bathtub, the water still swirling pink, barely hiding her tears. He pushed back his own as he turned off the water and without judgment, carefully assessed her injuries. Once satisfied that despite the amount of bleeding, the cuts were superficial, he wrapped her in a towel and carried her to bed.
Daniel found them lying there a few hours later, Jack's arms firmly wound around Sam, as he whispered soft words Daniel did not try to hear. He looked to Jack, concern heavy in his eyes as he noted the blood stains that spotted the bedding. Jack merely nodded in the way Daniel knew meant he'd hear the full story later and his help would be welcome but for now, it was time to just let Sam rest.
He nodded in return and backed out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. Teal'c stood in the hall, tension pulling at the air around him. Daniel gave him a nod and they retreated back to the living room knowing that whatever demons had assaulted Sam during the night, Jack had slayed the first and they would be there to fight the rest of them with her, no matter the cost.