John dragged his son in through the middle of the field to the edge of a huge hole, 5 ft deep and 7ft long, dug in to the ground at the bottom of which was a small wooden box. Dean stared down at the crater, his small form beginning to shake in terror. What did his had have planned for him? What was he going to do?
The Winchester father looked coldly down at his son. Everything he did was out of love, but that love was buried under years of grief, years of anger, so much so that it was sometimes hard to distinguish if he was trying to protect his sons or trying to hurt them.
"Get in." His voice came out gruff and hard. There was no pleasantry's, no fineness in the tone he used with his kids. He did not care for that. They would do as he said, when he said and that was the way it was. His son began to back away, pulling against his fathers arm to let him go. He begged and begged to be spared, terrified that he had done wrong, scared that his father wanted him to die. The older man gripped his sons arm tight and would not let go. He growled "I said get in the hole." and dragged the small boy to the very edge.
"Get in or I will push you in"
Dripping in sweat and shaking with dread, the slim child sat down on the edge of the hole and began to lower himself in. At the last moment he changed his mind and tried to scramble out, gripping and dragging at the dirt. His father leaned down and gave a rough shove, sending the kid skidding down the steep, muddy walls and in the box at the bottom.
"Dean, lie down."
Big green eyes stared up at him from the bottom of the hole, brimming with tears. He hated himself. How could he do this to his own child? How could he be so cruel? A small voice whispered inside his head.
"It's for protection. You must protected them. You must protect him."
Yes, that's right. He had to prepare his children so they would always stay safe, so that nothing would hurt them. It might be hard, it might be tough but he couldn't let something hurt them.
"I said lie down. You'll be okay."