Spoilers: Children of the Gods, The Enemy Within.
Disclaimer: The title is a lyric from a Goo Goo Dolls song, Iris. The characters belong to the people who own Stargate. The way to put them together I own. No money is being made.
Authors Note: I wrote this a year or so ago, just decided to post it for some reason. The concept of this might be hard to understand unless you've been there. You know who you are. And if you are in this place, I do hope you can get help. I live for feedback.
You Bleed Just to Know You're Alive
He hadn't thought of it in a long time. At least a year. His whole time on Abydos the thought never even surfaced. It wasn't that he didn't have the means, oh no. There were objects there that were sharp. But there was a reason not to. Sha'rui. The only reason he needed. Sure there were times, now that he thought about it, that the urge should've come, but it didn't. When the fever ripped through the land. When Skaraa was lost in the sand storm. When Sha'rui miscarried their child. But the thought didn't even cross his mind.
Now that he was back on Earth it was all he could think about.
The last time he thought about it was right before he made the breakthrough in regards to opening the Stargate.
Death had always been an interesting thought to him. How could it not have been? He spent most of his early childhood studying death with his parents. Tombs and ancient civilizations. All things dead. Dead things can't hurt.
At least that's what his parents always told him.
And he believed it until they died.
The dead can cause pain. Worse than a cut or a bruise. The kind of pain that is so overwhelming that it controls you, stalks you as prey, waiting for the moment when you are weak to attack. Bringing with it so much pain that the only way to control it was more pain, pain you could control.
And that's what he needed now. Pain to control the pain. A way to escape.
He didn't want to die. That would be too easy. And what if, what if they were able to save his wife. He wanted to be there for that. But he needed to ease the pain of her loss.
So here he was. A bathroom on the base. He had no other place. It was fitting in a way. A lost soul with no where to go.
He was surprised at how easy it was to get a straight edge. On the way back to the base he asked Jack to stop off at a drug store. Jack even came in with him and watched as he picked up the blades and a few other essentials. He couldn't believe that Jack didn't think anything wrong with using a straight edge to shave.
He shrugged at the thought. Who was he to complain? A gift horse and all.
He stood in the shower stall naked. He always did this in the shower. There were many reasons. One there was no evidence left. It all just washed away. Another was the significance of it. While the water washed the dirt from the outside, the blood washed the dirt from the inside. How poetic.
He held the blade tight in his left hand. Always used the left hand, and looked at his arms. No. He couldn't do that anymore. Too many eyes around to see those. He needed another place. Someplace that no one could see easily.
He opened his legs a bit and ran his hands over his thighs. Yes, there was only one scar there. From when he was younger and didn't know any better. It was easier to gauge the pressure to use and the depth when you could see. But the foster parents watched his wrists. And they noticed the blood and the missing bandages.
It's easier to hide cuts between your legs, and pants soak up blood if you can't get enough bandages. He always did his own laundry so his secret was safe.
He closed his eyes and switched the blade to his right hand. His left moved to his thighs and he found a spot.
His eyes closed, head tilted back and the metal met flesh.
There was no pain at first. There never was. The pain would come soon. It always did, but he controlled it. He could cut more or cut deeper. Here he was in control. He owned the pain. He could dish it out and take it away if need be.
Again the blade cut through skin, but this time he felt it. He almost sighed in relief. It burned. Heaven.
He opened his eyes and looked down. The water was tinged pink. Not a dark pink, but a light one. Almost like a drop of food coloring. He watched it swirl in pretty patterns. It was almost like a piece of art.
But the blood was getting diluted.
The water needed more color, and he wanted more pain.
He could control both.
He maneuvered his hand to his right thigh.
Knock Knock "Daniel, are you in there?" A female voice called out to him.
The doctor. The MacGyver lady. Captian Carter, Sam. "Yeah, just getting the last bit of sand." He figured a joke would direct her attention away from him.
"We got the briefing in 15."
"I'll meet you there." He called back.
He counted to 20 before stepping out of the shower with a towel between his legs. He moved back to the locker room and pulled out his clothing, keeping his legs pressed together to help stop the flow of blood.
Then it hit him. Ahh, the pain. He closed his eyes and sat back on the bench. Perfect. Just the amount he needed. Enough to block the hurt of Sha'rui, yet dull enough to allow him to do his job.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Daniel Jackson walked into the briefing room and smiled at the men waiting for him to start his meeting.