You were a witch, and a not very good one. You were practicing in your room when Sam came in—and surprised you, to explain it lightly.

You rushed to the “Dean cave”, holding a Baby Sam in your arms. Dean didn’t even glance, concentrating on his movie.

“Don’t be mad.”

You don’t even have time to explain that Sam, stuck in a toddler form, started to cry, trying to squirm out of your arms.