He'd endured pain before. But not like this. The stabbing ache in his seeping leg was merely a pinprick compared to the fiery agony every nerve in his body was screaming. The venom was creeping from his thigh to his torso to his chest as if he were slowly being submerged in acid.
He wanted to curl up and pass out so the pain would stop. So he didn't have to witness his own body dissolve into soup from the ground up.
"Leave me," he moaned. For the first time in his career it was not an altruistic plea. He was not begging for the relief of his team, he was begging for himself. It was all he could do to stay conscious and otherwise silent. He was afraid if he kept going, he'd start screaming. If he started screaming, he'd pass out. The only reason he was still conscious was because he wouldn't commit his team to that horror. He would only succumb to agony in privacy.
"We're not going over this again." Rodney's rebuke was frustration and fear and even a little anger.
So John kept himself conscious, mostly, and kept himself quiet.
It was quiet in the maze, too. Only Rodney's labored breathing, Teyla's quiet murmurs of encouragement and the constant shush of boots over gravel broke the odd stillness. The rhythmic patterns of sound formed into drumlines and percussion licks in John's hazy mind, repetitive and soothing. Maybe he could sleep without screaming. That would be better than passing out. Maybe…
"Sheppard!"
John startled, then realized his chin had been lolling against his chest when he jerked upright.
"Keep...walking?" he panted.
"No. You can sit for a little while, but you need to stay awake while we solve this puzzle and deal with whatever sadistic test pops out."
John concentrated and realized that they were in another courtyard next to another puzzle stage. He hadn't even been aware they'd reached it. Teyla was lowering him beside the platform and he leaned heavily against the wooden frame. Rodney was crouched in front of him and Ronon hovered close behind. It was good they were close. The edges of his vision were getting blurry and...faded.
"Sheppard? I mean it. You have got to stay with us," Rodney was saying, his voice way more serious than encouraging. "These puzzles require all of us to solve. The next one may have something to do with something only you know about or can understand. If we don't all participate, we all die."
John saw Teyla throw a startled look at Rodney, but Ronon was just nodding.
"Do you understand? John, can you keep yourself awake?"
What do you think I've been doing the past eternity? was what John wanted to say, but he didn't have the strength. So he just nodded and mustered enough energy for a double-thumbs up.
Rodney frowned, clearly unconvinced, but he stood and faced the others. "Who should read the puzzle, this time?"
"I'll do it," Ronon answered immediately, but Teyla raised a hand. John saw her expression go thoughtful.
"Ronon's question was a passage from a military text. Rodney's were science terms. Both are fundamental aspects of your character. I am trade master and leader of my people. My fundamental character should be negotiation and the pursuit of harmony. Perhaps this will render the puzzle less...violent?"
"I hardly think science is inherently violent, but you have an interesting point. If you're willing to risk it… That might work."
"We'll back you up if it doesn't," Ronon snarled. John blinked to clear the ever thickening fog and saw that Ronon had both his sword and his blaster drawn.
"I will expect nothing less," Teyla answered. She squared her shoulders and stepped onto the platform, the two men close behind her.
John twisted to watch. The stabs of pain the motion sent along his nerves were mercifully dulled by an adrenaline jolt of fear. He could just see the podium and still prop his shoulder.
"Read it out loud," Rodney ordered once Teyla had reached the tablet. She took a steadying breath, then read:
"Listen to my voice, baby
Momma's gonna sing
Quiet when the birds sleep
Loud when wraith scream
Listen to my voice baby
Momma is right here
Nothing past my voice is real.
Inside my voice, no fear"
There was a long pause. Even John was aware enough to know that this puzzle was different.
"What's it mean?" Rodney half-shouted in a stage whisper.
"It's an Athosian lullaby," Teyla said slowly. John saw her look around in fearful jerks. "It's a song we sing to children who are afraid to sleep. My mother sang it to me. It is not a… question?"
"You supposed to sing something?" Ronon grunted, succinct as always.
John could see Rodney shrug but nothing happened. No one moved or spoke. The tension of waiting for something, anything, to happen felt like a knot twisting inside John's stomach. A moment later, the tension throbbed into audible sound. John slapped his hands over his ears. Though the sound wasn't loud, it was painful.
"Sing something! The song says sing loud to drown out the Wraith." Rodney's voice sounded panicky to John.
Teyla began to sing - the very lullaby on the tablet, in fact - and the painful sound faded.
"It worked!" Rodney cried and Teyla stopped. Instantly the sound returned. John whimpered with the assault, already overwhelmed with pain management.
"Don't stop!" Rodney bellowed and Teyla began again. Again, the sound faded, but not entirely, this time. She sang louder and it faded again, then returned. A third time, she increased the volume of her song and the painful noise ebbed before it continued to grow.
"How do we solve it!" Ronon bellowed and John recognized pain in his voice, too. The noise seemed to fade under Ronon's words, then returned.
"It's responding to sound!" Rodney bellowed back. Again the fade and return. "When we counter the sound with an equal volume, it fades or cancels out. Like, like noise-canceling headphones. We have to match the amplitude or get our brains scrambled. Keep singing, Teyla. Sing as loud as you can!"
Rodney's rant, at even his normal (for Rodney) volume held the painful noise at bay until he stopped talking. Then it returned with even more painful force. John squeezed his eyes shut and curled up, his arms around his ears.
"Teyla, Ronon, keep singing and talking and making noise! As much noise as you can! Stomp on the stage, anything! Be as loud as you can. The amplitude keeps increasing! Be louder! Lalalalalalalala."
Even through his arms, John heard Teyla renew her voice with even louder and richer singing. Rodney began chanting equations. Ronon bellowed Satedan drill sergeant cadences. John heard thumping and clapping and stomping as well. The painful noise remained at bay for several long seconds. John heard the cacophony on the platform grow excited, hopeful even.
It didn't last long. Inevitably, inexorably, the painful noise overcame even Ronon's elephantine bellows. Teyla's voice was growing hoarse and Rodney was becoming more shrill than loud.
"Sheppard!" Rodney finally screamed through the chaos. "Sheppard, you have to make noise too! The puzzle requires all of us! Dammit, Sheppard! Yell or something! Every voice counts! Every decibel counts! Sheppard!"
John huddled, wrapped in his arms. He understood. He even thought he knew why he understood. But he couldn't scream. Because if he started screaming, he wouldn't stop until his lungs collapsed and his guts turned to jelly.
"Sheppard! John, please! I was the one who painted your jumper pink that time. Me and Zelenka! Yell at me! God, please! I can't take much more!"
The cries of his friends were becoming frantic. Teyla was no longer singing, but wailing. Ronon's chants had turned to curses. John wanted to scream. But if he screamed, he'd pass out. And… his team needed him. But they needed him to scream.
"John!" Teyla yelled and it was the pain in her shriek that caused him to draw a deep breath.
Every voice counts!
WIth a violent shove, John pushed himself to his knees, braced himself against the platform and cried out, "Yop!" at the top of his voice. He poured every ounce of frustration and anger and determination and hope into the cry, but he managed, just barely, to keep the pain out of it.
His teammates joined him in the howl and the power of their combined defiance echoed off the rubbery walls.
A profound silence fell over the courtyard. The painful sound was gone. Only the labored breathing of Teyla and Rodney and the thud of Ronon's restless footsteps remained.
"Well… well done, Teyla," Rodney gasped, his voice a raspy croak.
John lowered his head onto his arms, still leaning over the platform. The pain seemed to flood back into him as the adrenaline of the encounter seeped out. He began shaking.
"John, you did well. Thank you for your help," Teyla soothed, now at his side. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder.
"You had all the curse words in the universe to shout and you said Yop?" Rodney was also close, now.
"A person's….a person….no matter… how small…" John gasped and flopped to the ground to sit against the platform. He raised his arms, asking for help to stand again. Ronon pulled him upright, almost easily, and he settled in the large man's grasp, looking at Rodney. "And Whoville was saved by the smallest of all."
Rodney chuckled as Teyla exclaimed "Oh! Horton Hears a Who! Jennifer gave me that book to read to Torren. John has done so many times."
"Great...book," John agreed.
"Well, let's hope the damn Wickersham brothers who are running this insane maze heard your Yop as well. Because I'm just just about done with it." Rodney stalked away, taking the lead towards the newest opening in the courtyard walls.
"Me, too," John breathed. Ronon half supported, half carried John into the next section of the maze. As the canyon went on and on, the pain returned in triple. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. John could no longer feel the ground under his feet and had to simply trust that it was there.
But, John kept himself conscious, mostly. And he kept himself quiet.
