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Time.
They were always running out of time.
In all the eons through which he had lived, Castiel had never understood how fleeting the years were - until he met the Winchesters. Even after years of observing the humans before he had pulled the eldest Winchester from Hell, he never quite appreciated how much of it he had taken for granted. It was only in his fall from Heaven, and from God himself, that Cas had learned just how precious every minute of every hour was.
Castiel had treasured every millisecond he had spent with his family - with Dean. Of course, there were other just as important members of Cas’s brood, but it always came back to that original and profound bond. It always came back to Dean.
And here he was, his time on Earth about to run out, with Dean Winchester by his side. Castiel saw the moment that Dean accepted defeat. Saw the panic in his eyes fade into hopelessness. Even after all these years, he was still so beautiful, still every ounce the Dean Winchester that Cas had come to care about. To love.
Castiel’s love took root deep in his borrowed bones. It simmered in his blood. It consumed his whole being. Love had sat quietly in his chest for years as an unnamed softness that he couldn’t quite explain. And now, at the very end, he could finally put a name to this contentedness. He loved - oh how he loved! And what a final act of bravery it was to speak that love out loud.
It almost felt wrong - this burst of happiness in a moment so bleak. Death was pounding on the door, and yet Cas couldn’t get himself to look anywhere but upon Dean’s face. It was so hard to see all of Dean’s confusion, his horror, all of the tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes. In all honesty, Castiel was horrified too. All the shame and love and despair were raining down his face with each and every tear. It hurt. It hurt that this was it for them; that this was the end of all the temporary endings. It hurt that he would never see Jack or Sam or Eileen or anyone else he cared about ever again.
But this moment was also miraculous. He was so close to being human here, trapped in this room with the man he loved. Castiel was once so ashamed of his humanity, but now, in this final moment, as the Empty began to take him away, he had never been more proud of it. He was not broken. He was a Winchester.
He had always wanted Dean to see him like this. To see him following Dean's example and offering himself in place of his loved ones. To see him as someone worthy enough to call family. There was something so melancholic about being taught how to love by a man who did not love himself. And Castiel hoped beyond hope that his words in this moment would make an impact. That maybe, finally, Dean Winchester would understand that not only is he worthy of love, but that he is love.
Death was finally in the room, and Castiel knew that the sand in his hourglass had officially run out. He took one last look at the righteous man, at the Sword of Michael, at the love of his long, long existence. He wished it didn’t have to be like this. He wished the end of their story had had more happiness; more love. He wished they had more time.
Time. They were always running out of time. But maybe, just maybe, with this final sacrifice, with this final act of selflessness and love, Castiel could buy his family just a little bit more of it.