The fire had died down to the point Dad ordered "Okay, time to close it up."

Sam and Dean each took shovels and began the process of transferring the dirt back into the open grave.

There was the sound of a car on the road outside the cemetery, and suddenly a spotlight began to sweep the area.

"Shit!" John growled. "Cops. Go!"

John bolted in one direction while Sam and Dean went in another.

The brothers soon reached the back of the cemetery, which unfortunately, like the front, was surrounded by an eight foot high, foot thick concrete wall.

"Shit!" Dean cursed. "Haven't you people ever heard of chain link?"

The two followed the stone wall, looking for a gate or any sort of opening that would allow for escape.

At least two more car doors slammed back at the road.

"Dammit. Backup." Dean muttered.

Sam looked over his shoulder. There were three or four flashlights moving around the graveyard now.

"Here we go, Sammy." Dean pointed to a section of wall where the top two feet had been removed. "Boost me up."

Sam bent his knee at a right angle, allowing Dean to use his thigh for a step and scramble up the wall. Once he balanced on top, he reached his hands down to pull Sam up.

At that moment, the younger Winchester was pinned in a spotlight.

"Freeze! Show me your hands!" A voice commanded.

Sam held up his hands on either side of his head.

"Shit." Dean muttered, and jumped down, on this side of the wall.

Is he nuts? Sam thought to himself. He could have jumped down on the other side and gotten away.

Dean shrugged as if he had heard Sam's thoughts before raising his own hands in the air.

"Got 'em!" The cop shouted. "Against the wall and spread 'em!"

The officer waited until a second officer arrived, then patted the boys down while the other held them at gunpoint. He removed their knives and tossed them on the ground, then removed and opened their wallets.

Sam concentrated on keeping his breathing steady and his knees from shaking.

"Well, who do we have here? Troy A. Switzer, age 20, and I guess this must be your brother. Daryl J. Switzer, age 18." the officer read.

"Yeah, my other brother Daryl couldn't be here tonight." Dean joked.

"So is this what you boys do for fun in Texas? Drive up to Nebraska and dig up graves?" the cop continued.

"No, this is what boys from Texas do for fun in Nebraska." Dean smirked.

"Shut up, smartass." the cop ordered.

The brothers were handcuffed and escorted to the front of the cemetary. They were placed in the backseat of a patrolcar and buckled in.

By the time the two officers slid into the front seat, Dean had already slipped his handcuffs.

"Dude, do not cry." He whispered.

Sam nodded, biting his lip.

"Saaaamannnnnnthaaaaaaaa." Dean jeered, and poked Sam in the side.

Sam squirmed and refused to look at him.

"Sam Winchester wears makeup." Dean continued.

Dean tickled the back of Sam's neck with his fingertips.

Dean pinched the inside of Sam's forearm.

"Quit it!" Sam hissed.

"Make me." Dean taunted.

They passed the spot where the Impala had been parked. It was gone, which meant Dad had gotten away.

The brothers looked at one another and nodded.

Dean poked Sam in the side again.

"Stop it." Sam snapped.

"Stoooooooooop it." Dean mocked.

Sam huffed and turned to look out the opposite window.

Dean stuck a wet finger in Sam's ear.

"Leave me alone!" Sam growled.

"How does Sam Winchester practice safe sex? He wears a rubber glove." Dean leaned over to whisper.

"Do you always turn into a five year old when you're arrested?" Sam hissed.

"I'm just trying to have a good time, poopyhead." Dean retorted, then stuck out his tongue.

"Whatever." Sam sighed.

Dean snapped the waistband of Sam's underwear.

"Sam Winchester's favorite singer is Barney the Dinosaur." Dean continued.

Dean pulled Sam's hair.

"I hope you're not wearing your pink panties today." Dean teased.

Sam snorted and pulled his shoulder away from Dean's hand.

Dean leaned over and blew Sam's hair away from his face.

"Quit!" Sam said loud enough for the cops to hear this time.

"What's going on back there?" the officer in the passenger seat half turned to look at the prisoners.

"Are we there yet? I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean whined. "He's looking at me."

"Shut up." The cop shook his head and turned back around.

Dean flicked Sam's earlobe.

"Samannnnnnthaaaaaa." Dean repeated, sticking his tongue out again.

Dean thumped the side of Sam's head.

"I've smoked joints bigger than Sam Winchester's dick." Dean singsonged.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" Sam hissed.

Dean messed with the back of Sam's neck again and then poked him in the side.

They arrived at the police station.

Dean put the handcuffs back on.

The brothers were pulled from the backseat of the patrol car and led down a long halfway, one cop holding Dean's elbow and the other escorting Sam.

Dean stepped on the backs of Sam's shoes.

The two of them were momentarily parked in two straight backed wooden chairs as preparations were made for photographs and fingerprints.

Dean elbowed Sam in his side.

"The only way Sam Winchester is going to get pussy is to go to the humane society and adopt a cat." Dean whispered.

Dean slipped one hand out his handcuffs and tickled the back of Sam's neck again.

Sam jumped to his feet and loomed over his brother.

"Dean, if you so much as look at me one more time, when they take these cuffs off I swear to God I'm gonna beat ..."

The rest of Sam's threat was cut off with an "oomph" as he was slammed against the nearest wall by two officers.

"Come on tough guy, I think you need to go to a cell by yourself and have a time out."

Sam saw the triumphant look cross Dean's face and realized what his brother had done. By making Sam lash out, he insured that Sam was placed alone, which was probably the safest place to be in a jail. Not to mention that since about the second minute in the patrol car, he'd been too irritated to be afraid.

And Dad always said Sam was the smart one.

Sam grinned at his brother. "Jerk."

Dean winked at him. "Bitch."