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John Sheppard's legs shook as he fought to maintain his balance on the teetering box. If he had to guess, he'd say he'd been in this position over two hours. And in all that time, he hadn't heard a sound out of his team. He had no way of knowing if they were still alive.
He wasn't sure what they'd done wrong this time. Everything had been going smoothly at the dinner. One moment, the village chief was sipping the funny green-colored drink, the next he had eyed them, said a few words in his native tongue, and John was being dragged away from his team. His last glimpse of them had been Rodney's outraged sputtering, Teyla pleading with his captors, and Ronon going ballistic as five men wrestled him down.
Sheppard had been taken to a building at the end of the main street. Inside, it looked like some kind of meeting room with large windows on either side. They tied his hands behind his back, made him stand on a wooden crate, and placed a noose around his neck, stringing it over one of the ceiling beams. No one said anything, answered any of his questions, or reacted to his threats. They simply went about their business as if it were an everyday occurrence. Who knows? Maybe it was.
Their last act had been to blindfold him. John then heard a cluster of footsteps walking away, and forced himself to stay still. He held his breath and listened. Nothing. It seemed no one had stayed behind to watch him, goad him, to make him slip and fall. He tried to pull at the ropes binding his hands, but it messed with his equilibrium, and he almost tipped over the rickety box. The noose tightened fractionally around his neck, and John struggled to regain his footing. Holding as still as possible, John hoped one of his teammates would free him before his legs gave out, because it didn't seem like he would be getting out of this on his own.
It didn't stop him from trying. His wrists had already been rubbed raw by his more cautious attempts to loosen them. Apparently, someone on this planet knew how to tie some damn secure knots. Slowly and carefully, John worked at the ropes until he felt something drip down his hand. Blood. Perhaps he could use the blood as lubricant; it might slick them enough for him to slide free.
Before he could get very far, he heard someone's approach. His head tracked their movement.
"Will you sacrifice yourself for your people?" John recognized the chief's distinctive rumble.
"Yes," he answered immediately.
"Then step off the box."
John hesitated. Was it going to be that easy? "If I do this, you'll let the rest of my team go back through the ring unharmed."
"Agreed."
John nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
His descent was halted by the sharp jerk of the rope as it instantly tightened around his neck. He thrashed about for a long moment, his body automatically fighting the suffocation, before he crashed onto the floor.
*****
"It was a test?" John asked hoarsely, his throat still raw and bruised. Propped in a corner, John warily eyed the natives on the other side of the room, Rodney and Ronon standing between them and John.
Teyla's eyes were downcast as she nodded. "Yes, I am afraid they wanted to test the integrity of our group. They thought a leader who was willing to sacrifice himself for his people after struggling so hard to save himself would be worthy of friendship."
"We passed, right?"
"Yes, John." She took his hand and patted it. "They have agreed to let us return to Atlantis and send a diplomatic team to negotiate the treaty."
"But they won't have to—" John cut himself off.
Teyla knew what he was asking, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "No, you have proven worthy enough for all of us. That will be the only test."
"Fantastic." John ignored the way his voice broke on the word. "Let's go home."
*****
John was lying on a gurney in the infirmary, a couple of ice packs over his neck. Before he could be released, Carson wanted to make sure there wasn't going to be any swelling or breathing difficulties. That meant when Rodney returned to the infirmary after being released, carrying his laptop and settling in on the chair beside John's bed, John couldn't escape. Therefore he closed his eyes.
"So…" said Rodney.
John remained silent. Not just because his injured throat made talking painful, but because he didn't have much to say. John did what he'd had to do, what he would do again in that type of situation. Rodney was probably here to yell at him.
"So," Rodney said again. "That sucked."
John couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped, but even that seemed to hurt his throat. "Mmm," he hummed in agreement. Rodney had an odd lisp to his speech that made John curious. But he forced himself to wait, knowing he had to be patient with McKay.
"They made us watch through one of the windows."
John opened his eyes and looked over at Rodney. He hadn't known that part.
"We were told if we made any noise during the test, or tried to warn you in any way, you would be killed instantly, and we'd be thrown back through the gate." Rodney sucked at one of the ice cubes from his cup. "So Teyla, Ronon, and I just sat there and watched the entire time."
John really didn't know what to say to that. As hard as it had been to be on that box, he couldn't imagine having to witness one of his teammates struggle through it. He didn't know if he would've been strong enough to keep silent. Honestly, John was surprised McKay had been able to.
As if reading his thoughts, Rodney said, "I bit through my tongue in order to keep my mouth shut." He stuck out said tongue, revealing the stitches in the tip. That explained the lisp.
John chuckled.
"I've never seen Teyla so angry," Rodney continued. "And I'm pretty sure Ronon marked a few of them for death if we go back there."
"All's well that end's well," John whispered.
"Yeah, not so much," Rodney said. "Let's try to avoid these types of things in the future."
"Okay," John agreed easily.
"I'd appreciate it." Then Rodney was gone, yelling at Carson to "come check on Sheppard before his neck froze to the gurney, trapping him there forever."
John smiled and closed his eyes.