Title: Catharsis
Author: dealiberty
Pairing: Gawain/Galahad/Tristan
Rating: PG-13
Dedication: For eudaimon, for being you.
A/N: This fic is complete. A chapter will be posted twice a week, on Fridays and Tuesdays. Thanks to both eudaimon and trinityc for the endless support you've given me.

He can only watch in complete horror, heart clenching, as he turns to see the Woad archer shooting at Tristan, the arrow going straight for Tristan's heart.

A friend. A brother. Possibly something more.

And he's about to lose them all.

His heart beats faster, pumping blood, run cold, through his veins. There's nothing he can do. Nothing. Nothing to save Tristan's life. He can only will Tristan to notice. But Tristan doesn't.

And Gawain's about to lose him before he really had him at all.

He's almost sure that his heart is going to beat itself right out of his chest, the pain of losing another one of their numbers - of losing Tristan - already anticipated.

And then his heart almost stops completely.

Galahad.

Time slows, as if wanting Gawain to suffer in his helplessness for longer, as he's forced to watch Galahad step between the arrow and Tristan.

The arrow hits.

And Galahad falls.

Time speeds up again, going impossibly fast as Gawain sees Woads rushing towards the fallen like vultures swarming.

He charges towards them, afraid, angered and sickened, mind whirling with possibilities, scenarios, accusations - anything and everything - that he doesn't want to think about. His body works on instinct, his mind too far into its confusing storm to really know what's going on - to know anything except one thing - one person.

Galahad.

As his axe spins, severing limbs, slitting throats and crushing skulls, he tries to remind himself, to reassure himself.

Galahad's shorter than Tristan - that wasn't his heart. Galahad's a fighter. Galahad's strong. Galahad isn't lost to him. Galahad's not dead - not yet.

Gawain stabs the last of the swarming Woads and drops to Galahad's side, cradling his body close.

And Tristan's sword is there, flashing around them, all traces of the earlier exhaustion gone, protecting the pair on the ground.

"Galahad," he almost sobs, blood-stained fingers unbelievably gentle as they lightly trace Galahad's face. "Galahad, please."

And those green eyes flutter open, glazed over with pain and fear and a myriad of other emotions.

"Gawain?" His voice is impossibly young, trembling a little. So afraid.

"Yes. Me." The tears were threatening to spill at the hopelessness that was threatening to eat away his heart. "I'm here. Galahad, please…Don't…I don't want to lose you."

"I'm scared Gawain," the young knight in his arms confides. "I don't want to die. I'm scared."

Gawain shushes him. "Don't be Galahad. You aren't going to die. I promise you won't die." He's just as afraid, but he knows he needs to stay strong - for Galahad. He's painfully reminded now that Galahad is really only a child. Still so young. Eighteen. Only eighteen summers.

Too young.

"You always say that."

"And I'm always right." He pulls Galahad a little closer to him. "Come on, Galahad. Don't lose hope. Don't let go. Stay with me. I don't want to lose you…I never want to lose you. Please."

"I'm scared," he whispers again. "I'm so scared. Don't leave me, Gawain. Please don't leave me."

Breath hitching, Gawain drops a kiss to Galahad's brow and repeats the word he whispered a month ago, when their positions were reversed, meaning it as much now as he did then. "Never."

He's tired. It's been over a month and he has had one night's rest, that day when they'd brought Gawain home - and even then, he had not slept well, worried about Gawain - worried about Galahad. And now, he's so very tired.

And he's confused.

He knows he's not fighting as he usually does. He knows he's not in control. But there's nothing he can do about it, only manage as best as he can.

He turns, concentration slipping once - and he doesn't notice the archer until Galahad's there - until Galahad's falling. Because of an arrow meant for him.

And then Gawain's by Galahad's side, dropping to clutch the younger knight to him, ignoring the fighting completely.

Adrenaline moves his weary body to their side, fear of losing them fusing the edges of his control, desperation carries his sword as he kills without thinking, taking no pleasure in the task, only knowing that he needs to. For them.

The archer is dead, Tristan's dagger in his throat, and, around them, there is a circle of bodies: those who have been foolish enough to come within Tristan's range. He's like an animal, angered, frightened, protecting what is his, even if they didn't know it. He's watched them, cared for them - and he loves them both, needs them both.

And Tristan wants to kill anyone who tries to hurt them. Tristan will kill anyone who tries to hurt them.

The battle dies out with the final breaths of the Woads scattered around the field, and Tristan drops to the pair's side, exhausted.

He hears Galahad's confession, hears his plea to Gawain and Gawain's affirmation, and he feels like his heart's breaking.

Those green eyes then slip from Gawain, focusing on his face.

"Tristan…"

"Galahad, what were you thinking?" Anger, fear, worry - all lacing his voice.

Galahad tries to shrug, but whimpers as pain racks through him, instead he settles for a spoken answer, wanting to make things clear somehow.

"I didn't want Gawain to hurt."

Gawain's eyes go wide, tears falling faster than before and he's more confused than ever.

"You didn't want Gawain to hurt so you got injured? Galahad, what were you thinking? Are you out of your mind? Galahad…"

"And I didn't want you to die." The voice is too young, too childish to belong to such a brilliant knight, and the words are spoken almost too softly to be heard over the din of the after battle confusion, but Tristan hears it and it's like a slap to the face.

"Why? All I do is hurt you…all I've ever done is…Why?" Tears have come to his eyes, and Galahad's growing weaker and paler by the minute.

"Otherwise, there would be no one to annoy. No one to compete with - even if I can't ever win. No one to push me. No you." Galahad closes his eyes and rests against Gawain's chest, breathing hard.

"Galahad…" Tristan doesn't know what to say. His whole world is being turned upside down, he feels like he's breaking inside, and he can't understand what's happening. All he knows is that he doesn't want to lose Galahad. He doesn't want Galahad to die. "Galahad…"

Those fever bright eyes snap open, catching his once more. "Tristan…I - "

"Don't. No more deathbed confessions, Galahad. You aren't going to die."

"We're all going to die some day."

"Not today," Tristan says resolutely, pulling out his knife. "I need to get this arrow out."

"Tristan, look after Gawain. Look after him like you've always done. Look after him instead of me...be more than I can be. Please. Take care of him." He's trying to get Tristan to promise him. He's so sure that he's a lesser man than Tristan. He's so sure he's going to die.

"Stop being stupid, Galahad. Stop it. You need to be here to look after him yourself. I can't do that for you. No one can. No one can be more than you." He looks up at Gawain, who has tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks.

In the corner of his vision, he can see that Arthur's approached, supporting Lancelot, who's limping. They stop short, seeming to give the trio their time and space. That's the way it always is when a knight's dying. Their best friends, most trusted companions at their side.

Tristan doesn't think he should be there; he's not any of that to Galahad. But then again, Tristan doesn't think Galahad will die.

They're not ready to lose their youngest. Not yet.

"I did this for the first arrow in your life, Galahad, and all the ones in between."

"And you're here, doing this for my last…"

"Maybe I will be, but the last is not this one. That's not today unless you plan on never getting hit with another arrow in your life. Not today. Not yet."

Galahad's eyes slip close again as Tristan works the arrow out, head still resting against Gawain. Gawain's whispering soothing nonsense through his own tears, hands petting Galahad's hair, holding Galahad close to him.

No. Not yet. Galahad couldn't die yet. They're not ready to lose him. And the earth isn't ready to take him back.

He pulls the arrow out, then Arthur and Lancelot are there with the rest, helping Gawain carry their injured brother.

Tristan takes one look at Gawain, standing lost and forlorn, and, for the first time in his life, he's tempted to pray to any god that will listen.

Gawain's breaking and Tristan has no idea how to put him together again.