Disclaimer: nothing you recognise belongs to me.

"Alice?"

It took a moment for the blonde girl to drag herself out of her half slumber, recognise Galahad's voice and respond. Uncurling herself from the plastic chair that she'd dragged beside the hospital bed, she stood up on wobbly legs, eyed the side of bed and instead leant against the bedside table. Reaching for the dark haired man's hand, she gave him a rueful smile.

"Sasha said you should stay still, so stay still, ok? I've got painkillers if you want – two every four hours." Letting go of Galahad's hand she reached for the little plastic bottle that had been left on the table beside the bed and shook out a couple of pills. He took them and swallowed them dry, although he accepted a drink of water from the jug by the bed afterwards.

"Thanks." Galahad backhanded the moisture from his lips and settled back down on the pillows. Nodding towards the corner of the makeshift hospital room, he smiled at the sight of Gawain fast asleep on a fold up bed far too small for him.

"He ok?"

"Yeah." She brushed back the hair escaping from her ponytail. "He'll be fine, especially now that he knows that you'll be alright."

"Sounds like you're looking out for him pretty well."

Alice shrugged. "I wasn't out there fighting. I wish I could have..." Exhaling slowly, she looked at Galahad sadly. "I wish I could have done more." Her fingers plucked absently at the corner of one of the blankets that covered the injured man, and she jumped slightly when he touched her shoulder.

"Do you love him?" Galahad's eyes were kind but serious, and since Kate wasn't around and Gawain was fast asleep, it didn't seem to be such a bad thing to admit what she'd felt almost as soon as she'd met the blond Samartian.

She nodded quickly. "But don't tell him."

"Pinkie swear," Galahad said solemnly. Raising his arm he wiggled the little finger of his right hand at her. "But you hurt him and I'll kill you." Alice gave a huff of a laugh and shook her own pinkie finger with his.

"Not going to happen, and you'd better keep your promise," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You're going to be in bed for a while and I'm going to be the one bringing you your food." From down the end of the medical bay Sarah called her name, and Alice sighed, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes. "Better go, I'll be back when I can. Kate'll be around in a bit with some broth for you, and make sure you tell Gawain to get something to eat as well if I'm not back." Pausing to toss a spare blanket over the sleeping man crashed out on the camp bed, Alice grabbed her discarded apron and slid through the curtain separating the beds from the rest of the patients.

"If you don't want her I'll have her," Galahad muttered almost under his breath.

"You try it and I'll rip your bloody head off." Gawain opened sleepy blue eyes. "That's my girl you're talking about."

Galahad turned over on his side, and wincing, re-thought the action. Almost immediately Gawain had kicked off his blanket and hurried to his friend's side.

"Careful." He eased the younger man onto his back. "You rip your stitches and I'll have to be the one repairing them as everyone else seems to be busy."

"Fuck that." Galahad breathed through the pain until it became tolerable. "I saw the napkin you made for your mum in eighth grade – it looked like something a spider on LSD and with dyslexia would make."

"Dyslexia is to do with words not sewing," Gawain said, masking his concern with humour. Turning back the blankets he was relieved to see that there was no fresh blood staining the dressing on Galahad's side. "Could you try and manage not to damage yourself for five minutes?"

"Could you manage to stop fussing over me and tell Alice that you love her before one of the far better looking soldiers make a play for her?"

"Idiot." Gawain tucked the covers over his friend. "You don't just up and tell girls that. You show them first."

Galahad eyed Gawain warily. "Is that a euphemism for some weird sexual position? Because if so I want details; there's a very pretty girl in the camp that I've got my eye on.."

"Pervert." Gawain yawned and stretched with a grunt of satisfaction. "I was just thinking of being a bit more romantic than telling her when she's not surrounded by people bleeding all over the place. Now get some sleep."

"Bet you pick her flowers," Galahad said as a parting shot as the blond pushed aside the curtain.

"Shut up pup or you'll get another couple of holes in you," Gawain retorted before disappearing out of sight.

"The poppies by the shower block I reckon then," Galahad murmured to himself. And really, it wasn't that bad of an idea. The young blonde he had an eye on might go for flowers along with the wounded hero thing, and Gawain was usually good at giving advice even if it was inadvertent... Closing his eyes, Galahad let exhaustion and painkillers do their thing and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Kate made her way towards the infirmary with a feeling of peace that she hadn't felt since before the Tx-Zero had struck. She was beyond tired, but the wounded were as comfortable as they could be, and although she'd felt a bit of a third wheel standing beside Alice and Gawain who had snuggled against each other as they had listened to to Arthur give his speech, there had been a strange sort of magic in the air.

Odd, Kate thought to herself. In the light of the funeral pyres the ruins of the base looked almost regal. The refugees stoic and determined – even the oldest made beautiful by the firelight and new hope. They'd fought together, mourned together, and looking up at Arthur Castus standing on a pile of rubble and somehow making it seem like an emperor's podium, she wished that she had a videocamera, or was skilled at painting or pretty words to keep the moment for future generations.

And there would be future generations, for the first time since the virus had struck she believed that to be true. Lancelot smiled at her as she walked past, but the pretty blonde who was half holding him up, half wrapped around him gave her a glare, and stifling a smile, Kate gave a quick wave and kept on going.

Passing Bors and Dagonet who were resting against the wall of the infirmary, she walked over when they hailed her.

"Alright love?" Bors's voice was kind, and the almost paternal warmth of Dagonet's smile had tears welling up in her eyes before she had a chance to shove her emotions down.

"Kate?" Bors scrambled to his feet and took her arm gently as she tried to brush away the tears that her stupid body insisted on producing against her will. "It's alright." Letting herself be pulled into his embrace, Kate let herself relax for a moment. The big man was warm and solid and safe, and when she took a deep breath and looked up there was no judgement in his eyes. "Reckon I'm not the one you want right now."

"I think I dribbled on your shirt," Kate blurted, backhanding the snot from her nose and realising that the alternative of wiping it on her clothing which would be totally disgusting, was wiping it on the grass which seemed somehow worse.

"Here." Dagonet fished around in his pocket and found a crumpled tissue. It might not have been fresh, but it was better than nothing, and so Kate took it, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"Sorry." She made to give Dagonet the tissue back and when he raised his eyebrows at her, laughed and tucked it into her pocket instead. "Yeah, I should probably keep that."

The big soldier gave her a sweet sad smile that given his size and intimidating presence shouldn't have fit so well on him. "Go and find our scout, Kate."

Busted..

Her surprise must have shown, because Bors gave a low chuckle. "Come on luv; it's been pretty obvious, and who knows you might actually cheer up the mental, murderous bastard."

"That's.." Kate struggled for the right words. "Encouraging."

Bors gave her a bright smile and she smiled back without thinking. Walking swiftly towards the steps that led down to the modest hospital, she took a moment to take in the sight before her. If any of the patients were awake they weren't making any noise, and those that slept in the uncomfortable beds were expected to live. The walls might have been drab concrete, the cots worn and out of date, but in them lay soldiers both male and female that would fight another day. Beneath a halogen lamp at the end of the ward Sasha and Sarah were kissing; their hair yellow gold, their bodies fitting together as though made for each other. With a smile, Kate pulled her gaze away and quietly walked over to Tristan's bed.

He didn't look too surprised to see her when she pushed the curtain aside, and she took a moment to just look at him in silence. He'd shoved the blanket that covered him down, obviously trying to get out of bed, and so she was free to run her eyes from the jut of his hip bones and over his taught stomach to his broad chest. In the dim light his eyes were amber, and when he unabashedly looked her over, she blushed.

"Tit" for tat," he said quietly."You look at me, I look at you."

"Fair enough." Kate gave him a soft smile. "When you're better we'll do that properly."

"Now why didn't the Nation Health Service think of incentives like that when they were around?" The scout beckoned her closer. "Come here, Kate."

She walked over to the bed, a little unsure of what to do. Sitting on the corner, Kate jumped slightly at the sound of cheering outside.

"It's alright."

"I know. I guess we got lucky with Arthur didn't we? Things could have gone so wrong... We all could have.." She looked at the gun still laid upon Tristan's bedside table, and watched as he followed her gaze, took the weapon and shoved it under his pillow.

"Won't be needing that tonight," he said quietly. "That time has gone."

"So not a killer today." Kate brushed her fingers over Tristan's cheek. "Can't say that I'm disappointed."

"No." Tristan took Kate's hand, tugging gently, and she kicked her legs up onto the bed and settled down on his uninjured side, letting the scout pull her against his shoulder.

"Ever thought about cutting your hair?" she muttered, batting away the lock of long dark hair that was tickling her nose. "You're too good a soldier to use the "I'm a hippy" excuse."

"You could do it for me."

Kate pretended to think about that for a moment. It seemed like this was the first time that she could actually breathe since the virus had struck and that in itself was a bit strange. Tristan was warm, smelled of antiseptic, sweat and whatever the name was for himself. He was a killer, and way too good at his job, and she'd bashed a man's brains out only a few days ago, so they were probably a perfect match, she decided. The thought was so messed up that she giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked blearily. The painkillers were kicking in, and Kate was more of a fuzzy golden shadow than anything else.

"Just thinking that the world has a weird way of making sense," she murmured. From the way his breathing had slowed he probably hadn't heard her, she reasoned, but laying her head upon his chest she figured that it probably didn't matter. There would be time for talking tomorrow, and all the days that came after that.

Guinevere took a moment to take in the view before stepping out of the barracks. The fort was a wreck; there were still chunks of stone too large to be picked up without help scattered around, and the remnants of adrenaline, grief and panic were a thick unseen miasma around the Wall. But the wind was blowing... Time cleansed everything, and already hope was the sun burning away the darkness. Everything was different and yet strangely the same.

It wasn't hard to find Arthur. He looked exhausted, but the dead were buried, the refugees safe, and when she kissed him he still felt the same. The same solid build, the same dark hair that curled around her fingers. His hazel eyes held the same weary worry and tenderness, and taking his hand she led him back to his quarters. He tried to be kind, but she would have none of it. She stripped him of his clothes before divesting herself of hers and pulled him onto the bed without talk or explanation.

His body was hard and heavy when he pushed himself inside of her and his eyes were worried.

Oh and wasn't that just her man? Always thinking of everyone else...

"It's alright." Tucking her heels around his thighs, Guinevere bucked her hips and met him thrust for thrust, stroking her hands over his back. She came first, but it wasn't long before he followed her, and Guinevere gripped the muscles of his back as though by doing so she might keep them trapped in the moment.

He tasted of sweat when she licked his shoulder, and was far too heavy on her chest until he rolled over and she snuggled against his side.

"How does this work; do I have to ask your father permission to marry you?" The words were almost inaudible, but Guinevere smiled, rolling over onto her back.

"I don't belong to him or you or anyone else." She looked at the ceiling and hunted for the right words. "But my heart is yours. So's Britain at the moment; I don't reckon you asked for any of that."

Arthur kissed Guinevere's cheek. "As my brother would say, I got the girl. The rest is going to take a lot of working out."

"You'll do it though." She put her hand over his heart. "This can be a new start for all of us."

"Such faith." Arthur pulled the slender brunette onto his chest and cupped her face in his big hands. "Witch woman, can you see into the future?"

"'course I can." Wriggling out of his embrace, she made a makeshift sarong out of one of the blankets and padded over to the window, pushing aside the grubby curtains. The light that flooded the spartan room was gold and red with the dawn light, and Guinevere's dark hair shone black gold, her eyes soft with love when she looked back at him. "The sun rises, so will we."

"That we will." Guinevere came to him and kissed him sweetly before snuggling down and going to sleep, but Arthur lay awake until the sunlight was too bright to ignore.

The old world had been ripped apart, and the new one had been essentially thrust into his command. Better not fuck it up...

A/N:Well there we are - the end. I hope everyone who got this far had fun reading it, I certainly had fun writing it. Thanks very much to all the readers and reviewers who kept me going and were generally awesome. Were it possible to give out proper cookies over the internet I would have been cooking all day.

As I've said before this is an open AU, so if you want to play in my sandbox then help yourself to a bucket and spade. Feel free to do what you like with it. I might do a few short bits and pieces for the "Chosen" verse in the future but we'll see.

The lovely Symphonia-Angel-Luna has made a beautiful banner for Kate and Tristan – the link is on my profile page.

(If you are looking for new fics then I'll shamelessly pimp out a couple that I really like: "Oblivious" by Lycanus and Gargoyle13, and "Silent Knight" by Sticklebatz.)

Tara, aka Sadie H – I've lost your email address and you don't accept PM's on here, that's why I haven't replied to you, sorry. Keep in touch?