You tried to behave for Dean. You were barely two weeks old and Dean was acting as if you were the devil himself. You were his kid, but you weren’t him. So for an act of good faith, you tried to bake a pie. Easy, right? At least that was what Google told you. It wasn’t long that the task became to overwhelming for you, and like any young nephilim would do, you blew up the kitchen. You didn’t have a scratch on you, but that was the least of your worries. Dean was standing there, looking angry.