Disclaimer in part one.

Whew! This is a doozy of an epilogue to a doozy of a story. This actually took much longer than anticipated to write, which is strange because this scene is where the story's been leading to since the third chapter when Cameron mourned her the anniversary of her first wedding. I had such a hard time striking the right tone, especially, I think in the last part. Let me know what you think.

Thank you again for sticking with the novel-like monster, and I really appreciate all your comments, criticisms, and encouragement over the past three months. I've loved these new characters and the way they relate to the old characters, and to explore the impacts of years and generations on our favorite television character's lives. Please leave one last review!

Five and a half years later!

All these places had their moments

With Lovers and Friends I Still Can Recall

Some are Dead and Some are Living

In My Life I've Loved Them All

But of All These Friends and Lovers

There are None that Compare to You

And these Memories Lose their Meaning

When I think of Love, As Something New

--The Beatles, In My Life

The room, everything, looked gorgeous, perfect; Allison thought that, yes, it definitely was worth the costs and the stress. As it should be. It was a wedding.

She sat erect at an ornately draped table, one hand lightly caressing a champagne flute. She looked around the room, searching for her children. Though the Palmer Room at the Nassau Inn was very crowded, the lights were dimmed and it was completely covered in gold, silver, and navy blue, she was pretty sure her four children were especially distinguishable.

"Looking for someone?" Robert asked, holding two plates of hors d'oeuvres.

She lifted her head. "Found them," she said, eyeing the laughing, circulating children: Lizzy, with Luke, was talking to some hospital people; Claire looked like she was gossiping in a corner with the boyfriend she'd picked up at Penn, who had then followed her to Johns Hopkins; Sophie was playing with Rebecca Wilson, who looked very grown-up for nine; Rocco was sitting down, his girlfriend, Caroline, on his lap, and they were laughing with some random teenaged guest. "You all set for your spin?"

"Got my dancing shoes on," he said, taking a seat next to her. She laughed, remembering his shuffling at their reception. "Don't get all nostalgic yet; I hate to see you after a glass of wine."

She poked him in the ribs, laughed, and fully straightened. "I have a right to feel nostalgic! That's Lizzy in that white dress, you know!" She sighed, looking at her oh-so-grown-up daughter, radiant in a gorgeous, strapless white satin dress with silver beading and a full, draped train by Badgley Mischka.

"I know. Do you remember handing over any credit cards lately?" he said drolly.

She hit his knee. "It was worth it. Look at how happy they are." She clasped Robert's hand and stared at Luke and Elizabeth.

This day had been a long time coming; she'd had her suspicions since the family's Fourth of July party the summer after Elizabeth's junior year. She'd decided it was inevitable when Luke moved to New York City—even though they hadn't been dating at the time—when his fellowship was done, shortly after she graduated. And here they were, barely four and a half years later, back home to get married at the church where Elizabeth had been baptized.

Elizabeth was doing quite well for herself, of course, she was a research editor and contributing writer at The New Yorker; she'd just had her first 2,000-word piece published there. She'd fallen in love with writing and journalism sort of late, after the internship at Vanity Fair, and had earned an M.A. at Columbia's j-school as well. Some of her other work was appearing in the New York Times Cultural Review and New York and Vanity Fair and The Atlantic. She'd called Allison in raptures the other month when the Times had named her as one of "Thirty under Thirty to Watch." Luke was already a department chairman at Columbia. They had a large condo and a larger mortgage on the Upper West Side.

The other three were doing very well, too, of course; it was so disconcerting to feel so irrelevant to their lives and successes. Rocco was the only one left at home. He was a junior, knew he wanted to go to Duke or Dartmouth and then medical school but, as always, he simply needed her less than any of his sisters had. He went to soccer and to swimming, ran track, volunteered at an elementary school, played his trumpet (she made him stay in band), went out with his friends or with Caroline, whom he'd been dating for over a year now. He didn't call her from school when he had a bad test, like Claire did, or send her a text to ask what type of eggplant simmered best, like Lizzy, or send camera-phone pictures of 10 different pairs of shoes when shopping, like Sophie did. She didn't even know he'd dropped French class (at least he still took Japanese) until she'd received her schedule for parent-teacher conferences eight weeks into the semester. No, sons were different.

The twins were, of course, doing marvelously. Sophie was at Yale Law; Claire, Johns Hopkins Med. They'd been co-maids of honor today, and were in gorgeous, strapless tea-length champagne satin dresses with notched fronts and empire waists, where massive navy bow-sash things started. Claire had recently dyed her hair an extremely dark mahogany, and Sophie had changed her light-chestnut hair to a blonde even paler than Lizzy's, and together the contrast was striking. Claire had grown strong enough and assertive enough to make it as a doctor during college, but her inherent naiveté still remained, and that made Allison glad. Sophie had channeled her curiosity and indignation in positive ways, had found causes she loved to champion, wanted to go into international human-rights work.

Claire had been dating Stephen since their sophomore year, and there was something sweet and steady about them. They'd probably be getting married for keeps within the next three years. Sophie had recently had a breakup that resembled a fireworks extravaganza, with many tears and phone calls and yelling in the streets and much (according to Sophie) throwing of laundry out windows. She was home tonight with her best friend from college, Ryan, who had recently broken up with his boyfriend as well.

She smiled as she the photographer snapped a candid of her four children plus Luke, the girls playfully mussing Rocco's hair. "Come on," Robert said. "This is Lizzy's day, but what that really means is that we should celebrate because it means we did something right. Drink up, dance around a little, and let's embarrass the one teenager we have left. We've been fabulously successful, so let's celebrate that right now."

His grin made her smile, and she leaned forward and kissed him deeply. "Thank you for the past 27-odd years," she told him. Her everything, really, at this point. There was nobody else with whom she'd rather spend those near-three decades.

He grinned ever more broadly, pulled her back in for another kiss. "And thank you for doing the heavy lifting here—look how amazing our kids are."

"You know you did more than you're giving yourself credit for," she smiled.

"Come on," he grinned, standing and offering her a hand. "Before we get even sappier and more self-congratulatory, let's host this party."

She smiled and stood, adjusting her own eggplant-colored sheath. Her mother-of-the-bride dress. She wrinkled her nose. Such an unacceptable term.

"You know, I think we did it right when we went to Jamaica," she slipped her hand into his. "Not being in winter helped, too."

"They wanted a Christmassy wedding. December 11th is about as close as you can get."

"Mum! Dad!" Lizzy called, kissing Luke's cheek and rushing up to them. "I haven't seen you two in, like, at least ten minutes," she laughed giddily, the intensity of the entire day getting to her. She probably shouldn't've had that champagne, either. "How are you?"

"That's not the question today, it's how are you?" Robert smiled.

She grinned, her smile free and gorgeous in its inhibition. "Pretty damn good, actually," she said. "You all set for the dance, Dad?"

He spun awkwardly, and Elizabeth grinned, because nothing was going to bug her today. "Perfect," she smiled, and kissed his cheek, a blessing and a benediction and a daughter who was now officially grown saying goodbye all in one.

Maybe she needed to lay off the champagne, too, Allison thought ruefully. She was getting maudlin.

"You know, I think I'm going to go rescue Sophie from one of Haxby's overeager cousins," Robert said, kissing her cheek before departing. She followed his gait, finally noticed Sophie practically shoving a guy away.

"Oh, god, Mom, thank you again for everything, it's so perfect," Elizabeth took her hand and they began to move through the crowd.

"You don't get married every day," Allison replied, her mind flashing to her two weddings: One, hasty in a cold church followed by a roast chicken at a nearby restaurant; the other, thirteen years later, alone on a beach in Jamaica followed a week later by a relaxed, slightly raucous, party at an Italian place. Neither one this substantial or formal.

She couldn't believe that free-spirit vivacious Lizzy was the first to get married, honestly, that was it. She also couldn't believe Lizzy was doing for all the right reasons, no romantic notions attached. She was clear-eyed, she had considered the pros and cons, had waited a day to give Luke her answer. For Elizabeth's group of people, marriage was optional these days, and definitely in the future. None of her friends from high school or college had yet wed. Most of them, Allison knew, simply weren't mature enough yet. And, somehow, at 25, Lizzy was. Slightly extraordinary. "Just don't have grandkids anytime soon, okay? I'm totally unprepared for that word." She knew it was a distant proposition but the rings made it loom closer.

"Please, you know I'm naming my first son Chase Gregory Haxby—don't you want to see what he looks like? Or acts like?"

"Oh, I don't know. I could wait a decade. Or two." She tucked a fallen lock of hair behind Elizabeth's hair. She knew Elizabeth definitely wasn't having kids for ages, but the prospect made her shiver.

"Mom, I know you're feeling way old right now, but please be happy today," Elizabeth said unexpectedly.

"Oh, I'm very happy," Allison said, surprised. "I'm just in disbelief. You're extraordinary, Lizzy, really."

"Please, Luke and I have been dating for four years," she shifted nervously.

"I know, I know, and I love Luke. Really," she hadn't liked him at first, of course, his age and the awkward first date notwithstanding. She didn't think Liz could handle being with a doctor, the schedule and the stress and the patients first. But Lizzy was nothing if not surprising. "But I can't believe that you, Lizzy, are ready to be married at 25. I'm happy. I'm proud," she thought of her 25-year-old self, how awkward and intense she had been. How sad and obsessive. If she'd met Robert then nothing would have happened, nothing could have lasted. "I know I couldn't've done it."

But all of it was worth it, now, she thought, if it meant she was able to raise Lizzy, to teach Lizzy those lessons without her having to live them. It meant that Lizzy, at 25, was able to be the grown-up Allison could not have been. All those years of loss and feeling lost were valuable now, because now her children, strengthened through their acute aware of loss—if not quite their strong personal experience with it— could lead thoughtful and normative lives. They were sacrifices on the altar of the next generation, if she thought about it poetically.

"Luke's kind of great, isn't he?" Elizabeth asked, hugging a nearby friend before continuing on their path. "So you're really happy? I couldn't stand if you weren't happy today."

"Of course I am," she smiled gaily. "Now, you have about 242 guests that want to speak with you, but remember that drinks are over in 20 minutes and then it's dinner."

She kissed her daughter's cheek and sent her off excitedly through the crowd to her friends and husband, and meandered back to their table, stopping to chat with Luke's mother—who was a good decade older than she—and his brother's wife, the mother of the trio of flower girls. She hugged a few doctors, swiped a drink off a tray, and greeted Kutner and Foreman, sitting near the soon-to-be dance floor. Kutner and Natesa were there without the boys, and Foreman, who had brought a pretty, divorced high-school principal (they'd met at church—what the hell?) had inexplicably grown an awful mustache. It was big and busy and white and completely incongruous with his face. He had finally accomplished his ultimate dream; he was now the dean of medicine at Mass Gen-Harvard.

"Never thought I'd be here," he'd remarked dryly, sipping a whiskey and looking around. "Nice party, by the way, Cameron."

"We do what we can. We're definitely only paying for two more. No idea yet on which kids those go to though. The bidding starts tomorrow," she said back, her tone deadpan. "I'm glad you could make it."

He laughed. "You two never cease to amaze me. First you start dating, then you move in together, then you get engaged, then you actually have children, then those children grow up and get married."

"I know, it's a totally surprising story there," she said sarcastically. Foreman's astonishment that she and Robert had married was getting old.

"Lizzy looks beautiful, Cameron," he said sincerely, ignoring her tone.

"Thank you," she said. Kissing his cheek, she headed to her table, as close to the head table as possible.

Sophie's date Ryan was sitting there, entertaining a guy that Allison thought was a coworker of Luke's. Caroline, twirling a drink, was sitting as well, talking on her cell phone.

And House and Cuddy, plates loaded down with appetizers, leaned close in conversation.

"Sweet shindig, Cameron," House said, popping a mini-spanokopita. "How much is this cheese thing running you? Did they warn you they were putting spinach in it?"

It had become easier, in the last five years, to be friends with House: They could go out to dinner together, buy him groceries, invite him over with a regularity not possible when all the kids were home. It was simply easier for him to accept their offerings, and she and Robert had become a bit braver, a bit more unabashed. They weren't worried about what he thought of them, weren't worried about whether the kids could or would be upset, and they could simply … be friends, in a relaxed way not previously possible .

"I think those are 25 a dozen, House, but if you take the tomato-basil-mozzarella skewers, those are 32 a dozen," she sank into the chair next to him.

House was very old now, his body gnarled over like a tree, his skin yellow and pockmarked, his body emaciated, his hair thinned and greasy. He could only walk short distances, and he looked at least a decade older than he actually was. But his mind was still intact. She honestly didn't know what she would do if his mind ever started to go.

She doubted that would be a problem, though: Robert had told her, just a few months ago, that he had been monitoring House's health as a favor for the past five years, and it was now deteriorating at such a rapid rate they didn't think he'd be around by Easter. His kidneys had been shot for over two years, but dialysis had helped there; now, his liver was going as well, and there was nothing to help his liver live.

But he was here today, in a suit with legs not quite long enough. He sat with Cuddy, who Cameron officially doubted could ever look bad. Today she was radiant in a navy cocktail dress, her 70-year-old cleavage still perfect and proudly on display, stilettos hiking her up at least a good three inches.

"Are you two enjoying yourselves? Thank you for coming up, by the way," Allison said. "It means a lot to Elizabeth."

Cuddy nodded. "Of course. I honestly can't believe it—I remember her birth."

"Obviously you never changed one of her diapers, you wouldn't be nearly so nostalgic if you did," House groused. "Thank God for outgrowing that stage."

"No, instead they grow up and suddenly they're calling you from Paris because they're engaged," Allison watched Elizabeth and Luke float through the crowd. "Admit it, you never thought you'd see this day. Just don't you dare make a toast about Elizabeth's diapers."

"Hey, I made a kickass toast at your reception," House said. "I quoted Rilke. Who quotes Rilke?"

"I remember you also told everyone there that our relationship earned us a not-fail at life, just for getting married. Where are we at now?"

He studied her carefully. "B+. Once you two retire and start trying to re-meet each other we'll evaluate," he reached for Cuddy's hand and stroked it with his thumb.

"We'll see how that goes," she smiled, and House turned to an approaching Hartmann, presumably to insult him enough so he'd leave quickly.

"I'd like to talk to you, later," Cuddy whispered swiftly. Allison, startled, nodded. Cuddy got up and headed toward the bar again. Allison swiped a skewer from House's plate. Hartmann, thoroughly upset at House's comment about his shoes and waistline, turned and left.

"Hey, no sharing," he scolded, taking it back.

She laughed and grabbed it again. "Be nice to Hartmann. And it's not sharing if I paid for it."

"I think your floppy-haired doctor-husband covered this one, actually," he took it back. "You teach all your daughters to marry rich, or just the one who becomes a 'writer'?" he asked.

"Leading by example, I guess," she sighed, staring at Lizzy and Luke. "I definitely feel better about her safety—Lizzy couldn't apply a Band-Aid properly if required," she squeezed his hand. "You've said hello to her? It means a lot to her that you came up to see her get married."

"Wouldn't miss it," he said gruffly. "Free food, free booze—I've never understood why people think I'd dislike weddings. Beats fly-fishing every day."

She laughed, picturing House as a fly fisher. "Shuffleboard, too, I'd assume. How's life in Florida?" He and Cuddy had made their yearly trek the week after Thanksgiving this year.

"Not as warm as previous years," he said. "How're you holding up? Nothing says old and useless like a kid saying they'd rather get married."

She smiled. "I'm trying not to look at it that way. But it's a change. Paradigmatic shift, even." She was accepting it, though. It was just going to take a while.

"Thought you were always pro-change?"

"Pro-positive change," she smiled. "So are you too, you old softie."

"Don't tell people that I think Luke's good for her; it'll wreck my street cred."

She smiled at him; he was softer and smaller from age, but he wasn't diminished. He seemed relaxed today, at peace, no inherent turmoil lurking under his exterior. He had finally come to terms with his life, which had had a balm upon his soul not unlike finding religion. He was wiser, he was older, and he was okay with that. He was still House, at his core, but he had stopped struggling and started coasting on life. They all had. Life was so much easier once the lessons stopped banging you over the head. She smiled more.

"What?" he demanded. "Don't get all saccharine."

"It's my daughter's wedding," she protested. "Of course I'm going to get saccharine. And I'm very glad you're here. Did you ever think this would have happened when you hired me for my looks?" she tilted her head. "You look happy," she smiled.

He rolled his eyes, but flicked a pretzel at her.

Just then the tables all began to fill, the bridal party made their way to the head table. Stephen came to sit with them, and Robert made seven.

They seemed to rush through the toasts—Sophie and Claire did an adorable joint thing, complete with interjections from Rocco, before Luke's brother Daniel took the mic, followed by Robert, followed by a glowing Elizabeth. Finally dinner was served before being swept away quickly, and Robert and Elizabeth had their dance, to My Girl (Chase had originally wanted some awful ABBA song; Lizzy made Allison talk him down). Then it was Luke's mother-son dance, to You Are the Sunshine of My Life, then the bride and groom danced to Maybe I'm Amazed. They cut the cake, and the dancing officially started. Allison felt slightly bereft through the entire thing, alcohol mixing with feelings of loss mixing with astonishment at her age. Starting with her first job with House she'd been tugged into currents she couldn't quite control; the end result was grown-up children.

They sat for a while, but slowly everyone got up, started dancing and talking again. A seemingly endless stream of people stopped by to congratulate her, say how beautiful Elizabeth was. Cuddy danced with Foreman, and Taub and Hartmann came over with cigars for House. Robert had stopped by to chat with Kutner, and he returned, a mojito in hand for her.

"You trying to get me drunk?" she teased. "Want to have your way with me, is that right?"

"Pretty sure I have other methods of persuasion," he said, catching her waist with his arm. "Come on, now, seriously, cheer up. Lizzy's getting worried."

Allison laughed. "I'm very, very happy. Promise," she tilted her head up and kissed him.

"Dance?" he suggested as the song switched.

"See, this is a sign of how much I love you, that I'll dance with your two left feet," she laughed again, set her drink down, and pulled him onto the dance floor.

They spun out as an Allison Krauss oldie came on, twirled slowly in place, no words required. Robert really did have two left feet, and she loved him for it.

"So what do you think about pulling a House and Cuddy and retiring south?" he said spontaneously.

"How far 'south' are we talking?" she asked, thinking about how Sophie wanted to work in Boston. "And when?"

"After Rocco gets off to school. And around Melbourne?"

"Australia?" she gasped. Her first inclination was to say absolutely not, so far from the kids, but it was not such a bad idea, really. Robert liked Australia more than he let on. And that far away, distance from Boston didn't matter the way it would if it was Arizona versus Florida. "I don't know." She looked at him. "Definitely not for three months in a row, but … a few times a year for a while … could be nice," she looked at him. It had taken years, but he was definitely re-warming to Australia: They'd visited about once a year for the past few years. "It would probably be smart to buy a place to stay when we visit."

He grinned. "What I was thinking."

The song changed and they stepped off the dance floor so Lizzy's friends could all link arms and jump around. They drifted together among the groups of people for a while, laughing and kissing and exchanging stories, until Robert mysteriously made eye contact with Rocco, and then whispered, "Gotta go," before disappearing into the crowd. She turned, and noticed Cuddy, sitting alone at their table. She grabbed two white wine spritzers and headed toward her.

"Hey," she said, sitting down next to her. "Would you like a drink?"

"That'd be great, thank you," Cuddy took a long, contemplative sip. "How're you holding up? First kid getting married and all …"

"I can't believe I'm old enough to do this," Allison remarked. "I mean, I'm not seriously this old, am I?"

"You'd be surprised at how quickly you become irrelevant," Cuddy said dryly.

"How're you doing? You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," Cuddy took another sip of her wine. "I just wanted to let you know … that Greg and I aren't heading back to Florida after the wedding, as planned. We'll … we'll be staying in Princeton. Robert knows; Greg told him on Thursday night once we got here. The trip was too hard and … it was just too much. It's better to be in Princeton."

Allison was silent, reading in between the lines. So many years ago, the news of House's incredibly imminent death wouldn't have fazed her; she could rationalize it as him living the life he did. Life and death situations didn't affect him. But to have had him survive this long, to see him settle into a quiet retirement, now death seemed highly unjust and unfair again. "Robert told me he's been monitoring him for five years now, he said through spring, but … it's closer than we thought?"

"Yeah," Cuddy affirmed, not making eye contact. "We're hoping through New Year's. The meds aren't working, the dialysis isn't working, he's in a lot of pain. … He did really want to be here, though, that was the most important thing. He gets to see everyone grown-up and happy without making a big deal out of it. And he got a good retirement for a bit, and you know he'd get bored if he lived much longer, really," her voice caught, and she took a few minutes to compose herself. Allison put a hand on her arm. "But he made it through Elizabeth getting married and the twins graduating, and he saw Rocco almost grow up as well, and Rebecca will remember him. … He didn't want me to tell you or Wilson, thought it would put your 'overworked guilt complexes into overdrive,' but I thought you should know." She looked down. "He got peace, on his terms, and that's what will matter, right?"

"How are you holding up?" Allison asked honestly.

"About as well as can be. I've accepted it. I got a few good years with him, really with him, and yes, he's still aggravatingly House and he's snappish a lot because of the pain, and he's not the way I wanted him but I'd rather have this than … than the way it used to be. I know he loves me, and this is harder for him, too, so … So I'll be fine. I thought you should know."

"You two should come spend Christmas dinner with us," Allison offered. "Claire's cooking this year, so it will actually taste good this time," she laughed. "We've already invited the Wilsons; Rebecca wanted to 'see' Christmas, so they're coming to see a traditional Christmas."

"That would be lovely," Cuddy smiled wanly, her eyes star-bright with unshed tears.

Suddenly from the right, House, Luke, Rocco and Robert approached, and sat down swiftly at the table.

"Where have you been?" Allison asked, taking another long sip of wine.

"Hello to you too, dearest," Robert said sarcastically, pecking her cheek.

"Have you been smoking …" she sniffed his shirt, "cigars?"

"Luke's welcome present," House said, slowly lowering himself into the chair, his thin face contorted with pain.

"Rocco, did you smoke?" she asked seriously.

"Dad said it was okay!" Rocco said, laughing. "And, Mom? You're a little drunk right now, maybe think about grounding me tomorrow?"

"I can't believe you gave him a cigar," she muttered, but Robert just put his arm around her anyways.

"Smoking's bad for you," Rebecca Wilson, approaching with both her parents, said in an extremely judgemental tone. She looked crestfallen at the idea of Rocco—on whom she had a very-apparent crush—smoking a cigar.

"It's okay at weddings, sometimes, honey," Wilson tried to pacify her.

"Grab a seat," House gestured, and the three sat down, Rebecca in Wilson's lap. "Cigar for you, Jimmy?"

"Not right now, no," he said, gesturing exaggeratedly to a ticked-off Rebecca.

"There you guys are," Elizabeth approached, and kissed her new husband deeply. "Have you been smoking?"

"It was House's idea," Luke said quickly, and everyone laughed. Elizabeth slipped into the chair next to him.

"My god, my feet are killing me," she laughed, kicking off her shoes. "And I'm seriously beginning to regret my decision not to buy a cocktail dress for the reception."

"Is that because the bodice is way too tight or you're just realizing how long it will take Luke to undo the silver buttons all down your back?" House asked, taking another sip.

"Both actually," Elizabeth laughed. "Though even with the dress on I could still probably beat you in a chugging contest, old man, so watch the cracks."

"Liz, the DJ said we had to come to you to get permission to play the explicit versions of songs. They're so much more fun, so is that okay?" Sophie, arm-in-arm with Claire, approached.

"Ugh, no, sorry," Lizzy said. "Luke's nieces are still here, among other small children."

"Your nieces now, too," Claire said.

"That's right," Elizabeth said, nuzzling Luke's neck. "My nieces," she laughed. One of the three photographers trailing them all snapped a photo. "Did everyone eat enough cake?" The cake had been a delicious mocha-hazelnut mountain piled with creamy vanilla frosting; Allison didn't think she'd ever eat a comparable cake.

"Dear God, I think you're trying to poison me with sugar," House groaned. He raised his whiskey glass. "Anyways, toast time. Or my toast time. Old fun-sucker Cameron forbade it earlier." He cleared his throat importantly.

"Oh God," Robert muttered, taking a swig before raising his glass.

"To Rocco, Sophie, and Claire, for surviving your childhoods as best you could. I know those two old farts didn't make it easy," Robert very visibly rolled his eyes, but House continued. "To Rebecca, for looking ravishingly adorable in that pink dress," he winked at Becca, who blushed and snuggled into her dad's lap. "To Jimmy, for being the best Robin Batman ever needed, and to Leah, for finally taking him off my hands," Wilson rolled his eyes, and Leah laughed and kissed him.

"To Cameron, for not crying too much at the wedding. To Chase, for not tripping Elizabeth. To the awesome open bar you stocked today. You two figured it out a long time ago that the love you take is equal to the love you make, and hopefully those lessons penetrated the thick heads of your offspring," he raised a glass toward them, and there was an inscrutable, but important lesson in his eyes that made Allison shiver. House's toast was serious this time; a way, she realized of saying good-bye but finally settling into his odd roll of their group's patriarch. "You didn't get them all right, but you didn't get them all wrong, and when it's over 30 years that counts for a lot of something."

"To Lisa, for sticking it out for the long run. I've taken far more than I could ever give you," she shook her head and smiled, put her hand on his shoulder. "And now, for the full disclosure, for Chase's puritanical sake: I've had two whiskeys, a beer, and four Vicodin today. But finally, to Luke and Elizabeth, for getting it right and getting it together. Despite the somewhat questionable examples of relationships Elizabeth had growing up—" he shot a glance at Robert and Allison, just to needle them.

"Let's not forget anti-role models," Robert interjected pointedly.

"Never said I was great role model," House countered. "Or tried to be. But, anyways. Before I was rudely interrupted I was saying something. You two are lucky you're not idiotic to ignore what's in front of you, and brave enough to make the plunge. It gets harder after this, though, so watch out. A lot of people gave a lot of things for you to get to this place, and you'd better remember it. I don't do advice and I've never been married, for what it's worth, but from what I've seen it's plenty hard work. Lizzy, I've watched you push and explore and be curious and never give up when it's easy since practically the day you were born, and now's not the time to start. And Luke, if you can hold your own in a conversation with Lizzy that means you're not half bad yourself. Just remember the road is long and in the end, if you do it right, each day matters just as much as the one before it and the one after it. And that very, very little matters in the end." He looked hard at Elizabeth, who swallowed, and then at Cuddy, who averted her eyes again, blinking back tears. None of the kids noticed, though, thank God.

"House, that was perfect," Elizabeth said, leaning over while still holding Luke's hand and kissing his cheek. She looked thrilled that House had decided to gather and pass along wisdom, mistakenly thinking it meant he considered her wedding a mature and momentous occasion. Her excitement had blinded her to the fact that her parents were slowly exchanging sly, sad glances at House's words and Cuddy's reaction. Wilson looked alarmed as well. Robert, Allison could tell, knew instantly that she knew about House's health.

He squeezed her hand gently. "It's okay," he whispered. "Just for today, it's okay—look at how happy everyone is."

She looked around. It was true. Today, if anything, was an example of just how life never stopped moving, and how, ultimately, accepting and reacting accordingly was the only way to truly live. "Toast to that?" she said, offering up her glass.

"To what?' Robert lifted his own. "To House and his toast."

"To the long run," Cuddy said.

"To daughters growing up too fast," Wilson said.

"To seeing friendships last thirty years," Lizzy offered.

"To new beginnings," Luke said.

"To, you know, Lizzy and Luke?" Claire laughed, sticking up her glass.

"To Mom and Dad, and House and Cuddy. And Wilson and Leah," Sophie added diplomatically.

"To ending toasts," Rocco said.

They all laughed, tipping and tilting their glasses at each other.

Clink.