The second of three alternative epilogues.

Rehabilitation

Middle of 2007

Dr. House paced nervously up and down in the small room. He occasionally paused to check his watch, after which he would make a sound of irritation before continuing his legwork around the room.

Dr. Wilson sat calmly on a chair in front of an impressive mahogany desk. He had become bored of his friend's continuous pacing and opted to read his copy of Reader's Digest over and over again.

"You do realize you're wearing your cane out," Wilson said dryly.

"I can't help it," House snapped. "If I don't walk it enough, it'll eat up the carpet."

"Is that the best you can do, House?" Wilson shook his head, bemused. "You're really keyed up, aren't you?"

"Easy for you to say," House snapped. "I didn't have the good fortune of doing this several times like some people I know. It's a first for me."

Wilson grinned and went back to reading the "Laughter is the Best Medicine" portion of Reader's Digest.

House took this opportunity to gaze at Wilson's exposed and welt-free wrists before he resumed pacing. Ever since he had that crazy dream—or whatever it is that you'd call it—he couldn't help himself as he took several opportunities to make sure that his friend hadn't become or is showing signs of being a masochist.

That worry aside, it wasn't the upcoming event today that was making House pace. Well, sure, it was a primary concern that was making him edgy. It was just that it had been seven months to the day since he had received word about Tritter's untimely demise…

God, he was turning maudlin.

--

He had been at home nursing a scotch in his birthday suit when Cuddy called his place.

"Leave me alone, or you'll get a rabid rat in your mailbox." Beep!

"Real cute, House," Cuddy said dryly. "Just got word from ER—they've admitted Detective Michael Tritter an hour ago…"

House listened as Cuddy related how Tritter's car had been rear ended by an inebriated teenager coming home from a frat party. Though the damage to the vehicle wasn't severe and Tritter was wearing a seatbelt at the time, it seemed that it was enough to surprise Tritter into choking on his nicotine gum.

"…the frat boys didn't do anything but watch, they were so stoned and stupid..."

Michael Tritter died of asphyxiation on the way to the hospital. House smiled grimly and carefully walked back to bed.

No one could say he hadn't warned the big lug about the dangers of nicotine gum.

A slim, naked brunette was waiting for him under the covers, accepting the extra glass of Scotch from her lover before he settled himself on his side of the bed.

"Bad news?" Cameron asked, sipping some of the strong liquor.

"Depends on who you ask," House said lightly as he switched off the light. "Game for round two?"

--

Today

"Sorry, we're late!"

House abruptly stopped pacing like an edgy tiger to stare at the vision in a cream-colored gown framed under the doorway of the Judge's suite.

"What took you so long?" House asked gruffly as Cameron walked slowly towards her soon-to-be husband.

"You do realize that making me pregnant will also mean that I get morning sickness?" Cameron replied dryly. "I thought you were a doctor?"

"And as such, I know of ways of enjoying our honeymoon without giving you and Junior any complications," House shot back in a low growl, prompting a giggle from his glowing bride. Wilson rolled his eyes behind the Reader's Digest he was holding up his face.

"Do you think we should've invited the department heads to witness this wedding properly?" Cuddy asked as she walked up to Wilson. "I don't think two people are enough to take this all in."

Wilson looked up at Cuddy, resplendent in a tight-fitting electric blue dress, and then at Cameron, who was having her slightly rounded stomach rubbed by her enamored fiancé. "If we did, he might chicken out and take Cameron to Vegas."

"Hmm…you have a point," Cuddy said thoughtfully as the Justice of the Peace strode resolutely into the room and asked exactly who was getting married to whom.

All four doctors in the room raised their hands, grinning from ear to ear.

Fin