He had enough sense to read over the instructions once before starting, and made sure to keep them where he could see them even as he started, double-checking the heat under the pan even as he said: "Yeah, molten sugar burns are right up there with the molten cheese burns on the 'no thank you' list."

He did hum along even as he stirred, movements maybe a little too cautious, certainly more than they usually would be, finding himself gnawing at an already shredded thumbnail while he tried to sort out how to ask, finally just going with blunt, because that was what he was good at: "You know he's just a fuckin' ghost, right? Can't actually do anything to you? To any of us?" Granted, given the fact that he still couldn't handle the inarticulate ghosts of strangers and had yet to see the fully-aware ghost of his father aside from the one time before everything had turned around for the better, he might not be the best person to give that reminder.