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“You can let go now, Dean. I wanna try to ride on my own!” That day seven year old Castiel went home with a scraped knee, holding nine year old Dean's hand.
“You can let go now, Dean. I can stand on my own.” That night seventeen year old Castiel went home with an alcohol fueled sway in his step and nineteen year old Dean's hand holding him up.
“You can let go now, my Dean. It'll be a little bit scary but I'll follow you. I always do.” That night twenty four year old Castiel went home, holding twenty six year old Dean's hand, with a gun in both of their mouths.