A/N: Okay, here's the last of it *sheds tear*. I really just want to thank everyone who stuck with me all this time, especially those of you who were constant reviewers. This had been a fun ride. Now, about the chapter. Yes, it's short, but it's an epilogue, so it's okay. I actually had a very different ending in mind from this one, but I figured you'd all like this better. Personally, I don't think this is the best I can do. It's very fluffy, which is very different for me. Maybe sometime I'll post the alternative ending if I feel like it. You'll all have to tell me what you want, though. Also, review this as always. Enjoy!
Epilogue
Thirteen smiled nervously as she strode at a steady pace down the aisle between rows of folding chairs in the garden. On one side were their colleagues and the few members of her family she still kept in touch with, on the other, Foreman's immediate family, even his mother, wracked with Alzheimer's. They had wanted a small ceremony, nothing overly lavish or ornate, but something simple and intimate. To her left, his arm laced with hers, was not her father; their relationship had fallen apart after her mother died, but Wilson. She recalled fondly how she and Foreman had first asked House to escort her, and he gawked at the very notion. He was there though, sitting next to Cuddy as she held Rachel. She smiled when she saw the child, reminding her of the day she told Foreman she wanted children. Ahead of her, Thirteen saw a tuxedo clad Foreman, who had opted to go best man-less, standing next to the minister, his expression echoing her own. She glanced down briefly at her unelaborate white dress, clinging to each of her shoulders by spaghetti straps.
The next time Thirteen looked forward, Wilson had peeled off and she was at the makeshift altar, beside her soon-to-be husband. Chancing one more look back, she saw two people she hadn't expected to see. There, in the front row, sat Brock and Natalie, both beaming in her direction. She smiled back sincerely, genuinely happy to see them there, something that only a few months ago, she would have thought impossible. She turned back around to feel Foreman squeezing her hand. The minister took a deep breath. "Do you, Eric Foreman, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
Foreman looked deeply into her eyes and smiled. "I do."
The minister then turned to Thirteen. "And do you, Remy Hadley, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?"
Thirteen's voice momentarily caught in her throat and she felt like she was about to shed tears of pure and absolute joy. "I do," she said. Then, without waiting for the go ahead, she and Foreman kissed long and passionately, only to elicit applause from the crowd. The minister shook his head in slight disapproval, causing her to laugh against her new husbands lips. They then parted and walked back down the aisle, their grins uncontainable.
The reception was outdoors as well, with tables set up under a small white tent by a pond, the dace floor a long, wide platform, at the head of which was a band of twenty-somethings featuring a vocalist who doubled on guitars, a drummer, a guitarist, and a bassist. Everyone watched as the newlyweds took their first dance to the Foo Fighter's Everlong, by Thirteen's request. After a bit, when other couples began to join them, Thirteen saw Brock and Natalie begin to dance. She was instantly struck by a memory. This song, this very song, was the one playing when Brock apologized to her, and she couldn't help thinking how funny it was that things worked out that way. Before turning her attention back to Foreman, she notice House and Cuddy dancing together, their colleagues standing around, dumbstruck, watching them. "Look at that," Thirteen sniggered, nodding her head in the other couple's direction.
"What a spectacle," Foreman replied, both of them now laughing. And it was then, caught up in her happiness, that Thirteen thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would somehow be okay.