So here we are, back at the beginning again! I would like to say that I'm sorry for changing the story up on some readers but I hope that you'll like the story as much as you (hopefully) did before when it had OCs. To all of my new readers I would like to say Welcome! Here's a bit of background on the story first:

This story is based off of the Supernatural episode "The End" (season 5 episode 5) in which Dean Winchester is sent into the future by Zacariah to see what will happen if he doesn't say "yes" to Michael. The world is dealing with the apocalypse, meaning Lucifer ruling the world in his vessel (Sam) and most of the humans are infected with the Croatoan virus. There are very few safe areas where people aren't infected or threatened by demons, and one of the places we learn about in the episode is Camp Chautauqua, which future Dean Winchester is the leader of a group of hunters there. If you haven't seen the episode I highly recommend you do, it's a great episode and personally is one of my favorites.

As said in the summary, there will be no pairings in this story BUT there will be a lot of adult language and violence. If you're not into those kind of stories (then I have no idea why you're a fan of Supernatural) then I'm completely cool with that. This is the revised version of my previous story (same name) only I hope to actually keep my and your interest in this.

Disclaimer: I own only my own characters and ideas so please respect that and I will respect you (don't steal my stuff o.O)

I hope to work on the next chapter soon, but until then...

Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Midnight City

It was supposed to be a quick in and out- nothing but a restock centered on medical supplies for the base camp. Out of everything they ever needed in the worn out summer camp hidden in the wilderness, band-aids and neosporin would have seemed like twigs compared to the necessity of food and water, but the jack asses who occupied the boy scout camp ran for the medics whenever they tripped and scraped their knee. Dean couldn't remember how many times he'd bashed the jelly-legged doctors' heads in an attempt to make them realize they weren't a fucking CVP pharmacy. Not saying the patients weren't to blame- oh no he'd kicked their asses to, but the disenchanted fallen angel stoner who currently made his living off of the females and any prescription drugs he could get his hands on wasn't helping either.

"Yeager, check out the back." The rugged blonde haired man ordered, pointing his shotgun past the cluttered frozen food aisle.

The hunter nodded and swiftly stomped through aisle four towards the back end of the store where the deli and bakery had once been located. Honestly, it was a surprise that they hadn't met more force on their way into Walmart, especially on a Saturday afternoon.

"And hurry up, I don't feel like dealing with people in the checkout line!" Yeager snorted and threw his middle finger over his shoulder as he reached the end of the row.

Dean smirked, reaching forward to pick up a book on the discount shelf. Within the abandoned store seven of his men were spread out in search of the health section. On such a stupid mission he didn't dare bring more than ten of his own, especially since these places were often swarming with Croats; the poor bastards that had been infected with the Croatoan virus. Most of the men wandering the store were solders he didn't know well, name at most. Chuck never left the camp- or at least he hadn't for the past two months since he'd twisted his ankle in a rabbit hole while carrying a load of toilet paper to his cabin. Cas was probably balls deep in one of his many angelic girlfriends or washing his hands before his next orgy. Seriously, the least the son of a bitch could've done was come with them to get his stupid high pills.

With a sigh, Dean threw the book back on the shelf. Like he needed to know about capitalism or some ridiculous shit like that- the guy who wrote the book was more or less dead now. Whoever the hell Al Gore was. A lot of help that suit will do him now.

"Hey boss, we've got some VitoLax here if you want it for later."

There was a chorus of low chuckles from the heath and beauty aisle and Dean let out a small laugh, even though there was no follow up smile to support his amusement.

"Just get the meds to the truck before someone finds us snooping around." He said before turning to walk to the side of the store where the cash registers were.

It was almost funny how useless money was now; whatever they needed they took, no questions asked. Of course, the stores and gas stations they had been using the past few months had been stripped dry, forcing them to venture out farther in search of supplies. They were probably about an hour or two out from Camp Chautauqua, somewhere in a small town that the military had run through on their way to one of the larger cities to take care of some Croats. They tried to avoid the U.S. national guards whenever they could; a lot of the times the soldiers shot before asking questions. Tapping his finger on his gun in annoyance, Dean stared at the empty alcohol section. Figures that those army dicks had taken all the boos.

Dean was shifting his weight to turn around and walk back to where his men were loading up the medical supplies when a small, high pitched sneeze echoed through the store. He paused, eyes narrowing as he scanned the store. There was no way that sneeze had come from any of his men. Dean tightened his grip on the shot gun and audited the sound in his head to figure out where it had come from. Out of the corner of his eye Dean spotted a sign hanging from the ceiling that pointed towards the bathrooms.

The hunter brought up his gun so the tip rested against his cheek, and stalked towards the dark hallway. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on, using his free hand to hold the light source atop of the shot gun. The store had gone silent, save for the unnecessary commotion his men were making as they hauled the boxes of pills out the door. Dean was fairly certain that the noise had come from this area of the store- the restrooms. The men's restrooms came into view first. Using his foot, Dean gently nudged the door open so he could slip in. The room was pitch black, brown stains and flies everywhere. Other than a rotting, half rat eaten body in the corner by a urinal, the men's restroom was empty and Dean cleared out.

Wrinkling his nose, Dean silently made his way towards the women's restroom at the far end of the hallway. The smell of the rotting body was soon overtaken by the unmistakeable stench of smoke- the kind that was made of plastic labels and sticks from outside of be exact. Someone had to be living over here, or at least hunkering down for the night. Small puffs of gray smoke fell from a torn out ceiling panel near the restroom. Whoever was over here must have just put out a fire.

Dean tightened his grip on the gun and pushed the women's door with his foot, but it wouldn't budge. Thinking that maybe something was blocking the door from the opposite side, he pressed the left side of his body against the door and pushed. The door was locked. Dean placed the flashlight in his mouth and reached into his back pocket for his lock-pick. Once he wrapped his fingers around the smooth metal, Dean tucked his shot gun under his arm and leaned down to the lock.

As soon as the door unlocked with a small 'click', Dean heard the panicked shuffle on the opposite side. He quickly shoved the lock-pick back into his pocket and held up his gun and flashlight again, slamming the door open. There was a high pitched squeak and his light fell upon a small girl who had her body pressed against the farthest wall, shakily holding a hand gun in Dean's general direction.

The gruff man's eyes flickered around the dark bathroom quickly to make sure no one else was waiting to ambush him, before he slowly lowered his gun. The girl couldn't have been more then thirteen or fourteen years old. She was shivering uncontrollably, traces of tears in her terrified hazel eyes. Her wild brown hair was tied back in a loose pony tail, a few strands falling over her dirty face and tattered clothing. Instantly, he knew she wasn't a killer or a Croat.

"Hey, hey, it's alright..." Dean said in his softest voice, something he hadn't used in God knows how long. When the girl didn't lower her gun, Dean slowly placed his in his belt, hoping it would get her to relax. "I'm Dean."

She was silent for a moment, as though considering whether to answer or not.

"I'm Scout." She whispered, lowering her gun slightly. "Are... are you one of them?" Dean tilted his head slightly in confusion, "The sick ones."

"You mean Croats? No." Dean took a step forward and the girl raised the weapon again, a flash of fear in her eyes. Dean stopped and held up his hands. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." She looked like she wanted to trust him, but a flicker of doubt passed over her face. Dean took in a deep breath and stepped back to lean against the wall in a passive manner.

"Do you live here?" He asked casually, attempting to calm her down. She nodded. "Wow, that sucks." The girl let loose a small smile and finally lowered the gun.

"Not much else I can do." Scout said quietly, "Not with all of those sick people wandering around." Dean nodded his head, lips curling up in a smile of his own.

"Well you chose a good spot." He said, "I suppose you just go out and get what you need from the store then run back here to hide out."

"Pretty much." She brushed a strand of hair out of her eye, "They like coming here at night, but leave when it gets light out... Are you a traveler?"

"Sort of." Dean dared to take a few steps forward, "My people have a camp about an hour away from here. We come out to hunt down Croats and get supplies." Scout didn't move from where she was pressed against the wall.

"You mean there's no infection where you live?" The hope in her voice was almost heartbreaking.

"No." Dean said bluntly, "It's still out there, but we keep everyone protected." The girl was silent for a moment, looking down at the ground. "How long have you been here?"

"Two or three months, ever since this whole thing started."

"Dean, we've-

The girl scrambled back, holding the gun towards the door again as one of Dean's men appeared. As soon as the hunter spotted the girl, he whipped out his gun, holding it towards her, but Dean jumped in front of him, grabbing the weapon out of his hand.

"Get the hell back to the truck!" Dean growled, shoving the gun back at the hunter's chest. The man's eyes flickered back into the bathroom, where Scout was crouched on the floor, gun aimed somewhere closer to the side of the door than their bodies. "NOW!" The hunter clenched his jaw and stomped back down the hall to where the others were waiting, and Dean turned back to the girl. Giving up on keeping a distance, he slowly walked to her side, certain that she wouldn't shoot him and squatted down so he was at her height.

"You shouldn't be here alone," He said, "it's not safe."

Well she wasn't about to disagree. For the past few months she'd boarded herself up in this shitty bathroom, scared out of her mind. The only thing she'd known was that the world was ending and people were going crazy out there. About a week ago, the U.S. army had rolled through to pick up supplies on their way to a bigger city, but Scout had been too frightened to approach them.

"Can I come with you?" She asked, a hint of desperateness in her voice. There was no way she was going to be left here alone again in the dark bathroom. Dean looked at her as though it were a stupid question- which it was. Like hell he was just going to leave this little girl here in the Walmart bathroom, that would make him a douche on all eighty thousand levels.

"Of course." Dean chuckled, "But first, you gotta learn how to shoot a gun." He gently took the weapon out of Scout's hands, pressing a small button near the grip. "You had the safety lock on, it wouldn't have done you much good."

Scout pressed her lips together and nodded. How could she have not known that? Dean held out his calloused hand a few inches away from the small girl, a small offering to help her up. She swallowed nervously, but took his hand and grunted as he pulled her to her feet.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here." Dean said, looking around the dark bathroom again as though something would jump out of it's shadowed corners and attack.

The brown haired girl nodded and quickly snatched up a tattered brown rucksack and threw it over her shoulders. She was more then ready to leave the facility she had spent the past few months of her life in. Scout kept close to Dean's side as they abandoned the bathroom, tempted to take his hand again just to make sure it wasn't a hallucination, but she shoved the thought down her throat as she realized how childish the action was. But then again, why shouldn't she indulge herself in such pleasures? She had just survived part of the apocalypse and more, Scout was eager to lock away the horror and solemness of this nightmare and slip into a dream.

As soon as the two reached the hallway, shots rang out through the store, followed by angry and panicked cries. Dean's body tensed and he grabbed his shotgun from his side, bending down low and sprinting down the hallway, eyes darting back and forth in search of the enemy.

"Stay close to me." He ordered without looking back at the young girl who was having no trouble at all keeping up with him. Scout nodded and pressed herself about an inch away from Dean, her fingers tugging at the straps of her bag nervously. When the feral growls reached their ears, they knew that the Croats had found them all.

Dean jumped out from the hallway into the main part of the store, scanning for the Croats with the precision of a hunter. There were ten, maybe fifteen of them spread out around the store, and only four of his men were still running around in the aisles. To run, or to stand and fight, that was the question now. Dean's emerald eyes narrowed as he thought through his options. Staying to fight could result in the sound attracting more of the infected, but running and shooting from the back of their trucks would too. They were always screwed when their cover was blown. Dean silently cursed himself for allowing them to stay in the store for so long.

"Get back to the trucks!" He shouted, finally making his decision.

The hunter pulled the trigger and shot down an older, bald man, before grabbing Scout's wrist and pulling her towards the door. The young girl didn't stop to complain and followed Dean's lead, pressing herself against the older man to hide as much as herself as she could from the terrifying scene around her. She'd never allowed herself to get so close to the infected people before.

"Dom, Nick, get the hell out of here!" Dean ordered as they bolted past the check out lines. The two men nodded and exited the store quickly, each pulling a final bag of medicine behind them. The lead hunter turned to make sure the rest of his team were out of the building, before readjusting his grip on the young girl's arm to make sure he didn't loose her in the chaos.

Dean shoved Scout through the glass door first, turning to bash a Croat's face in with the end of his gun. The reassuring sound of a running engine filled their ears as the two ran for their lives. Only a couple of days ago, they had encountered a similar amount of Croats farther from the camp, and one of their cars had decided to shit out on them. Needless to say, after Dean slammed a crowbar down on the hood of the car to get it started, the mechanics back at base were dragged out and forced to work on the damn thing until it ran as smooth as Cas's face after he shaved.

"Go!" Dean shouted, pressing his hand against Scout's back to encourage her to run faster. Just as soon as Yaeger shifted the truck into drive, Dean practically threw the teenager into its bed where she landed on a pile of bottles of rubbing alcohol. The tires squealed into action only seconds before Dean jumped and latched onto the side. Scout swiftly turned and grabbed onto the older man's upper arms to keep him from falling back as the truck shot forward and out of the parking lot towards the highway.

"They're following us!" She shouted over the blast of wind that rolled around them. Dean's eyes narrowed again and he turned his head to spot four of the infected people sprinting after their truck. He hoisted himself up and threw a leg over the side to rest his foot in the bed, bringing his shot gun up again and taking aim at their pursuers. Behind them, from the passenger side of the truck, the sound of backup gunfire rang through the air. A few of the Croats fell in a crumpled heap on the street, but they were quickly replaced by more.

"Fuck!" Dean mumbled, reloading his gun from where he was straddling the truck, "Get us the hell outa here!" He shouted at the driver of the truck, who, in response, revved the engine and the truck shot forward. Scout scooted to the end of the bed, pressing her back against the window that led into the main part of the vehicle. From the other truck, two of the men were hanging out of the window and shooting at the Croats.

"We should be clear once we hit clear road!" Nick hollered from the passenger side window over the gun shots. Dean nodded and shot at another Croat, his jaw clenched.

"Here!" The hunter turned and tilted his head slightly as Scout held out a small, round object to him. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the green device so it wouldn't fly away whenever they swerved or hit bumps, and Dean tentatively reached forward and grabbed it.

"Where the fuck did you get a grenade?"

The girl smiled, "The soldiers left their supplies unattended for a few minutes."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't question it anymore. Although, he did make a note to keep all of their weapons under surveillance once they got her back to the camp.

"Heads up!" Dean yelled, before pulling the pin and chucking the device towards their pursuers. As soon as the grenade left his hand, everyone in the back of the truck ducked and covered their heads. Not two seconds later, an ear splitting explosion whipped through the air and the ground shuttered as they drove on. Dean pulled his head back up and checked behind them to find no one chasing them anymore. A cocky smile plastered itself on his face and his jaw finally unclenched. That was the first time he'd ever handled a grenade. Fucking awesome.

"Nice thinking, kid." Dean chuckled, gently slapping Scout, who had some type of grimace shadowed on her face, on her back. The teenager nodded and sat back against the wall of the truck, legs sprawled out in front of her. "Anything else I should know about in that magic bag of yours?"

"Nothing I'd prefer you know about." Scout responded dryly, leaning her head back against the truck.

"We should be on the highway in three." The driver informed them from the open window in the back of the car. Dean nodded and relaxed ever so slightly, still keeping a death grip on his shot gun. They had more than lucked out back there, and it was only ever going to get worse.

"Give me a status on everyone." Dean shouted up to the front. From the inside of the truck, the two men radioed the others for information while Dean carefully reloaded his gun as he sat down in the bed near the pre-teen.

"Thank you." Her voice was swallowed up by the wind and Dean nearly missed the words she uttered. The hunter looked over at Scout for a moment, before turning back to his gun.

"Don't thank me," He said, "we ain't outa the woods yet." Scout dropped her head to look at the bag that rested on her lap.

"Everyone's on board, sir." The driver reported, fixing his ball cap so it wouldn't fly off from the bitter wind. It was only October and already the world around them was dying, but this time the human race was running right behind the grass and the trees. Winter was going to be a bitch of a fight.

"Lets head back to camp."

Hope you liked it!

Any questions, comments, or life threatening concerns don't hesitate to pm me!

~*~ Charli ~*~