(After 5.17, 99 Problems)

After visiting Heaven and killing a whore, Dean told himself after the apocalypse, if he survived it, he'd go on vacation. He'd drag Sam, Castiel, and Nemamiah to Vagas. Sam could babysit and Dean would show Castiel how to gamble and when Sam wanted to go out, he'd take Nemamiah to a show. She'd like the tigers and stuff.

But at the moment, Dean was tired of burying bodies in a town that had been duped by a demon whore who had taken the form of a Preacher's daughter; it was grade A sitcom material right there. Sam drove them back to their motel room, which was no longer in that tiny town but in the nearest town over. Not one of them felt comfortable staying another night where people had killed their neighbors under the assumption that God was going to bring them paradise for killing sinners.

"Motel, sweet Motel," Dean muttered as he climbed out of the passenger seat.

"Hey, Dean." Sam followed suit, shutting the Impala door after himself. "Don't you think it was weird that you were able to kill that whore?"

"I had the branch, I took the shot. What do you want from me?" Dean grumbled. "The whore is dead and we saved a bunch of people. Day well done." Sam gave him a suspicious look and Dean looked back at him, stopping at the hood of the car where the engine clinked as it cooled. "What?"

"Cas said it took a true servant of Heaven to kill the whore of Babylon," Sam reminded him.

"God fearing man, that's me," Dean said airily, which only served in earning one of Sam's deadpan glares, "So you going to stick around or you going to run off and see your boyfriend?" Sam sighed, pulling out his phone and then as an afterthought, he put it back in his pocket, a look of frustration coming over his face.

"Lover, Dean. He's my lover. You make it sound like we're in high school." Sam pulled out the motel key and went to their door. Dean rolled his eyes. It helped him think 'boyfriend' when Sam as acting like a hormonal schoolgirl. "I'm staying in."

"Well don't think I'm chaining you here or anything." Dean followed adjusting his stiff shoulders. The argument probably would have escalated if not for the fact that Nemamiah nudged open the door for them and she was holding two paper plates with sandwiches on them.

"Dinner," she announced proudly and they both blinked at her and she blinked back expectantly, patiently holding out the plates to each of them. Dean took his first and then nudged Sam, who took one as well.

"Thanks, Miah." Dean looked between the white bread, finding lettuce, tomato, ham, and ketchup. "You make this?"

"Yes." Nemamiah smiled. "Father and I decided to make something."

"Oh really?" Dean gave her a smile and bent down to scoop her up in one arm and stood back up. "I bet it's awesome." He walked in with her and Sam closed the door after them.

"It is, 'cause I made it." She wrapped her arm around his neck, wings curled neatly behind her.

"Right." Dean chuckled, because weren't all little kids proud of what they'd just made? Castiel was sitting on their bed, the TV was on and he was polishing off his own sandwich.

"I assume everything went well?" Castiel asked and Dean set Nemamiah down on the bed.

"As well as anything can with half the town turning on itself." Dean ruffled Nemamiah's hair, which had grown in the last month or so so is got a poofy quality to it. Nemamiah smiled in return and scooted off the bed to go back to the table where sandwich fixings were laid out. Dean took a seat next to Castiel. "So, sandwiches." They had been eating out a lot since they were full time on the road again. He took a bite and grimaced a bit with the sharp taste of too-much-ketchup.

"With very little cooking area, we were limited to preparing meager meals," Castiel explained simply.

"Motels aren't made for any kind of real cooking." Dean swallowed his bite, looking to where Nemamiah was drowning a piece of bread with a bottle of Heinz. "Easy on the condiments, squirt."

"Okay, Dad." Nemamiah continued to make her next masterpiece and Sam just looked amused, setting his half eaten sandwich on the table.

"My compliments to the chef," Sam told Nemamiah and she smiled back as Sam claimed the bathroom first for a shower.

"Sam and his vegetable freak taste buds," Dean muttered as Castiel leaned his shoulder against Dean's.

"It's not even a vegetable," Sam cut in. "It's mostly sugar and vinegar with pureed tomatoes."

"Still mostly tomatoes." Dean wiped a good glob of red sauce on the side of his plate from one of the sides of bread. He then leaned back into Castiel as he took a bite of the sandwich again, actually being able to taste the ham with the second bite. "I bet you didn't get a mouthful of vegetable paste," Dean said to Castiel.

"Of course not." Castiel leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek. "I made my own."

"Lucky," Dean said and glared at Sam for making an amused face from watching his and Castiel's affections.

There was quiet as they ate and the thing that really irked Dean was that a procedural cop show was on. After he tried to change it, it changed right back to the cop show and Dean looked to Nemamiah, who had another sandwich in hand and a brow raised.

"I'm watching it." Nemamiah joined them on the bed, sitting next to Dean.

"You like procedural cop shows?" Dean grimaced.

"They catch bad guys," Nemamiah informed him.

"They are rather insightful to human culture." Castiel shrugged.

"They're all the same," Dean grumbled.

"Ssshh, I'm trying to listen." Nemamiah bit into her new sandwich and Dean looked to Castiel who looked right back at him.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel asked curiously.

"You realize they're all the same, don't you?" Dean asked. Castial shrugged.

"The police system in itself is procedural, but the program is paced quick enough to keep one's attention." Castiel nodded to the TV. "Nemamiah thinks it's one of the already introduced suspects and I think it is an episode where the killer is not revealed until the end." Dean stared at Castiel some more and Castiel sighed. "Nemamiah enjoys the program as well as several others and who am I to deny her education to her own culture." Castiel drank from a bottle of water that was at his side and Dean shook his head but smiled despite he was outnumbered at this point about what they were going to watch. He tossed his empty plate on top of Castiel's and wrapped each arm around Castiel and Nemamiah's backs.

"Fine, but after this, how about something else. You guys have had the TV all day."

"Okay," Nemamiah said easily, mouth stuffed with food.

It was nice, Dean mused. It was nice arriving back after a bit of hunting to his little girl and Castiel. It was a bit cramped in the small motel room for 4 people, but Dean really couldn't remember a time where he felt more at home. Fighting things and helping people were his life, and he couldn't give that up. So finding for now, he had both, he felt it was worth it. Finding out that God just didn't give a damn any more a few weeks ago had left him a bit hollow, yeah. He'd felt a bit empty since being dragged back to earth from Hell. But finding Castiel was angel pregnant gave him some sort of point to focus. It reminded him a lot of why humans kept fighting off death and kept moving forward.

Nemamiah was a great reason to hold on and not give into Michael's deal. Because if he did, there was a good chance she wouldn't be there when Michael let him go. If Michael let him go. Michael had promised to, but Dean didn't trust a slimy word of that pompous asshole. Not after knowing an angel was supposed to kill a nephilim on sight. It wasn't an option, he told himself.

Sometime during the "climax" of the cop show, Nemamiah had climbed into Dean's lap, eyes fixated on the small TV. Sam hogged the bathroom for a shower after he'd eaten, missing the quality ending. Castiel was leaning his head on Dean's shoulder and Dean's thumb stroked a small pattern against Castiel's side.

"Do you think you're a true servant of Heaven, Dean?" Castiel asked then, in the last 5 minutes of the show, where Nemamiah's full attention was on the program. Dean glanced at Castiel, who was giving him the same suspicious look that Sam had a few minutes ago.

"I kill a whore and everyone thinks I'm some sort of saint," Dean grumbled.

"I'm concerned about what you were thinking of," Castiel told him, "Because the apocalypse is closing in, we've not found any more rings, and Michael's deal is still open." Dean sighed and took Castiel's hand.

"What does that even mean?" Dean asked. "I mean, I'm the Righteous man and everything. That's got to count for something."

"Unlikely," Castiel said. "You've completely disregarded Heaven and their ways." Castiel's eyes flickered to Nemamiah for a split moment, then looked back at Dean. "We both have."

"It's cause the whole thing is bull." Dean scoffed. "So are the angels being in charge. And God's walking around here somewhere, not giving a damn..." Nemamiah looked up at them both then, since the subject was getting heavy and it even caught her attention. Dean sighed, rubbing her shoulder. "I'm not taking Michael's deal, okay? The only thing I was thinking of was... well, getting back here." Dying again was not on Dean's to do list and getting back to Nemamiah at the motel had been on his mind. Making sure Castiel was alright from being tossed around by the whore had been on his mind. So had been getting through the apocalypse and having a moment to breathe. And maybe he'd had a dream about a park barbecue which seemed a lot like Heaven to Dean. Dean thought if he could get there, to that spot in time, everything would be okay. Maybe then he could believe in something. Not Heaven or God, but his family and being happy with Castiel and Nemamiah. But saying it aloud wasn't something easy to put into words. He just knew he had to keep going and he wanted Nemamiah and Castiel there with him. Dean smiled, hugging them both. "You guys are the closest thing to Heaven I need, got it?"

"Okay." Nemamiah nodded. Castiel looked less convinced.

"Heaven and Earth are two very different places, Dean," Castiel told him.

"Yeah, I know." Dean struggled to find the words, because even he didn't understand why he was apparently a True Servant of Heaven now. "Look, I don't know why it worked, it just did."

"Maybe it wasn't talking about the place." Nemamiah said logically. "Uncle Sam and I were talking about Heaven after you both came back from the dead. Again." Nemamiah turned in Dean's lap, to see her parents better. "There are lots of Heavens. But all Heavens are the same because they are all full of happiness. So Dad is a Servant of Happiness and Harmony." Dean wasn't sure how to react. He partly wanted to gag because that was an even worse title than Servant of Heaven; it was... fluffy and sounded like a line from a kid show. But she was a little girl and at the same time it was adorable.

"You're speaking of that state of Heaven in the mind," Castiel reasoned thoughtfully, undeterred or maybe not knowing that the title was more fluffy and emasculate. Castiel seemed intrigued. "Which is that state of thought where sin is absent and the harmony of the divine mind is manifested." Nemamiah nodded.

"Yes." Nemamiah nodded. Castiel pondered that, rubbing his chin.

"Theologically, it could be possible." Castiel thought it over and Dean couldn't be helped but annoyed.

"Look, can't we just be happy that there's one less demon and there was another day for sandwiches for all?" Dean asked. "You two theologists can pick it apart all you want but it's already done and everyone is fine, so leave it alone."

Castiel's smile returned warmly, more than before and he squeezed Dean's hand back. "Yes, Dean."

"Do you want another sandwich, Dad?" Nemamiah asked.

"Later, Kiddo." Dean kissed her head. "You need to rot your brain with more TV first. You're only a month old and you're already too smart for your age."

"I'm not a baby, Dad, I'm part ethereal being..."

"And you sound exactly like your father too. Shush."

Sam chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed in clean clothes. "Dean, True Servant of Happiness and Harmony."

"I will kick your ass, Sam," Dean warned and got up, setting Nemamiah down in Castiel's lap. He still needed his shower. Sam just gave a slightly exaggerated bow for Dean to enter the bathroom and Dean gave him a shove for it.

Once under the warm spray, Dean rethought about his dedication to Castiel and their daughter. Just because they had a kid didn't mean they had to settle down and get married and act normal. They didn't need to. Dean scrubbed himself down, thinking yeah, he didn't need it. He never had it, so he didn't have to strive for that white picket fence.

But he wanted it. That was what made the difference. Maybe he liked the thought of living with Castiel, somewhat normal. Maybe he could sit down in an area like Bobby did and have a home base. It wouldn't be so bad. Nemamiah wouldn't have to move around like he did as a kid and she could go to school like Sam always wanted to. Castiel and Dean could, you know, be domestic.

When the world wasn't falling apart of course. Dean took a deep breath. Okay, maybe it wasn't so ridiculous that Castiel mentioned marriage so early. But still, it was a big step, and Dean couldn't just jump into that before knowing if he was going to live past Lucifer turning everyone into croats.

If they lived past the apocalypse, Dean decided he'd try the domestic life. It wouldn't be so bad. Nemamiah finding friends. Dean and Castiel eating in the backyard. Hell, Even Sam and his boyfriend archangel would be tolerable. Maybe it would be a little slice of Heaven. Because Dean had a smile on his face after actually thinking of building a white picket fence.