"Fuck-"

You murmur, eyes wide with panic as you fumble with the stolen SWAT uniform you were pulling on alongside Sam. Dean already had his on and was covering the door.

"I got it."

Sam murmurs softly, warm fingers tracing up your spine as he fastens the vest in place and tightens it to your body, despite how big it is on you.

"Thanks."

You murmur, shoving the boots haphazardly on and wincing as you put on the mask.

"It smells like fear and leftover breakfast."

Sam chuckles softly at your comment, tugging his own helmet on. God, he looked so hot, so tall and mysterious in that uniform. It was almost hotter that you knew he'd do anything for you despite looking like the most dominant man in the world right now.

"Hold still, you're crooked."

Sam whispers, adjusting the too-big helmet on your head. He tucks your hair under the dark strap, his gloved finger tracing down your cheek for a moment before he nudges you along.

"Let's get the hell outta here."