A/N: This is the first of the two Good endings and my personal favorite. These are the best case scenarios. Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: don't own nothing.

Ending 4: Good: Reverie

House opened the door and sighed in deep relief, both for his finding and what he was about to do. Wilson lay on the hospital bed with half a dozen IVs connected to his arms, sleeping soundly in his induced coma. The oncologist's clothes were clean and slightly rumpled except for the bloody sleeve where all the tubing originated. House imagined the amount of anxiety that caused all of the black and blue bruising in that area along with the small blood splattering.

The diagnostician took one look at the vitals on the screens then sat down besides his old friend. He then brushed off some stray hairs from the peaceful face and rearranged some tangled up IVs. "Wilson, if you can hear me, even though I doubt it, it's me, House. You were right, I was able to figure everything." House started as he fixed the oncologist's pillow.

"And all I have to say is…I couldn't help feeling you were always there, with the notes, the clues, the keys; you were your usual over-protective self. I understand…" he continued with a soft smile as he placed a small peck on Wilson's forehead. House then took out the two vials and observed them for the last time before dropping the Kill vial to the floor. "Time to wake up."

As he prepped a syringe with the Sun vial, the older doctor reached over to one of the IVs and folded it. He then injected the substance in the stream and released the tubing back into Wilson's blood stream. It took a short while before the oncologist's eyes fluttered open. "…House?" "Morning, sunshine…or should I say, Afternoon?" the diagnostician replied with a smirk.

"Did you?" Wilson began in a tired tone prior to House cutting him short. "Kill the big, bad you? Yeah, I did." "House, I'm so sorry; I should've just ended it all before it got out of hand." The oncologist murmured as he tried to cope for his action. "So?" House shot back casually. "People died!" "People are supposed to die anyways, now let's get out of here and get ourselves wasted out of our minds." The older doctor assured; Wilson hadn't changed a bit.

"I can't leave. But I can send you and the rest back." Wilson said as he sat down on the bed. House thought about the offer and quickly made up his mind. "Send everyone else back." "What?" "I want to stay here…" The oncologist's head snapped towards his friend and gave him a disbelieving look. "Why?" House chuckled for a second and replied, "How kickass is the fact that you made a whole new world in which we can do as we please in here? And there's that tiny detail of spending eternity with you; not the greatest concept ever conceived but I can work with it." Wilson processed the idea and laughed, "Eternity with Greg House? That's punishment enough!"

Cuddy woke up with a start; she felt as if she had died suddenly. She scanned her surroundings and tried to make sense of what had happened; had it all been a dream? Everything in PPTH looked just as it always did; patients going in and out while doctors and nurses did their work. Even her office was immaculate; as if nothing had happened that day.

The Dean of Medicine sprinted to the Diagnostics department, avoiding hitting anyone in her path. Along the way, she stopped at the ICU unit and spotted Cameron, alive, and just as confused as she was. The immunologist even had her hand over her abdomen, hovering the spot where the pyramid-headed creature had stabbed and killed her back in the fog-ridden world. Over at the Surgery ward, Cuddy found Chase drinking a rather large glass of water, face reading disbelief at returning to normalcy.

House's office was empty but his team was already there, case at hand and board scribbled on. Foreman, Taub, Thirteen and Kutner were all focused in the case so they almost didn't catch Cuddy's entrance. "You're all alive?" "Shouldn't we?" Taub shot. "You were dead, you shouldn't remember…" Thirteen assisted her coworker. "We just woke up and everything was like it was before." Foreman explained. "So where's House?" Everyone in the room became silent as no one came up with a logical answer. "He never showed up for the case briefing."

Unable to understand, Cuddy walked over to Wilson's office and, using her Master Key, clicked the lock open. Inside the space were a pile of folders; a couple of boxes and a clear desk save for a folded note. The dean slowly approached the desk and grabbed the note. It read in House's handwriting, I'm sorry. I love you too.

Cuddy broke down into tears as House and Wilson observed from the fog world. All three were in the same room but Cuddy would never see them again. Wilson placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to comfort her but all she could feel a presence over her. "Take care." Was the last House ever said to Cuddy before he limped away from the office, Wilson following suit.

Back in the real world, the dean regained her composure and put the note in her pocket. She then headed down to the morgue, got a couple of papers and began filling in the lines. With her as a legal proxy, she signed away the death certificates of Gregory House and James Wilson, cause unknown.