1. Dean's room

Dean stood back and took pride in his handiwork.

His favorite guns were hanging from the walls. Cleaned and neatly displayed on the walls of his room.

His bed was neatly made - it was totally worth it tying that Memory Foam mattress and tying it to the top of Baby, and hauling it fifty miles back here.

He mentally thanked the two college students whose money he won at pool that made his mattress possible.

His clothes were neatly hung in the closet - jeans, tee shirts, suits - and his socks and underwear were in the dresser.

Someone had been a Vonnegut fan - there was a battered copy of "Utopia 14" that Dean had excitedly claimed, thinking it was a Vonnegut novel he hadn't read - but being a little disappointed when he realized that it was the novel "Player Piano" under a different name.

Still, the book remained on the desk, along with equally battered copies of Colliersand Galaxythat someone had been keeping. Each magazine, he noticed, also had short stories by Vonnegut.

Dean smiled at the idea that one of the high toned Men of Letters took delight in reading science fiction, at a time when science fiction was considered "junk".

He put his favorite Led Zeppelin album on top of the record player he'd snagged from the library, giving Sam a glare when his brother smirked at him.

The album had been purchased too, in the same town as the mattress.

God love college students, Dean thought.

Dean surveyed his room with an approving eye.

The last thing he did was put the one picture he had of himself and his mother - the one that his father had kept in his journal - on his desk.

"Hey Mom," he said.

Dean let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Then he noticed Sam standing in the doorway.

"Wow," Sam said.

"What? I haven't had my own room... ever. I'm am making this awesome!"