AN: Okay, so I said I was rewriting this story. I wasn't really liking where it was going and decided I could do better.

This is the Prologue... a little look into Isabella Singer's past.

Let me know what you think?

6.7.I.M.P.A.L.A.L.O.V.E xx 3

9 Years Ago

The eleven year old brunette girl sat quietly at the side of the school playground as the other students of the elementary school ran around for recess. On her lap was a large, quite dusty, obviously old book... which she was currently reading to herself in a low mutter, ignoring the shouts and jeers from a few of her classmates.

This eleven year old brunette girl was none other than Isabella Karen Singer, only child of Robert (Bobby) Singer, the reclusive scrap yard owner, whose wife's disappearance eight years ago was still the talk of the town. The quiet reclusive personality of Bobby had obviously rubbed off on his daughter, who... even now as a large stone collided with her cheek after being thrown by a boy who was very large for his age, both in height and weight, just glanced up towards him before wiping the mud and blood from her cheek and going back to her reading.

"Hey Singer," The same boy who'd thrown the stone bellowed across the playground, making Isabella's jaw clench subtly before she carried on with her reading... which if someone looked close enough, they'd realise was actually in Latin. "Hey, I'm talking to you Freak!"

Once again Isabella's only reaction was to clench her jaw and carry on her reading, fully aware of the large boy stomping towards her as his anger grew at her ignorance. "Hey!" he snapped one more time before snatching the large book away from the girl and tossing it into a nearby puddle, Isabella's eyes snapped closed in obvious irritation before she got to her feet and turned towards the large boy, her small and skinny stature seemingly nothing next to the boy she inwardly nicknamed The Hulk.

"What do you want?" She asked smoothly as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans, which were obviously too big for her.

"You need to learn how to talk to your superiors," he snarled at her as a crowd started to gather around the two. Isabella's eyebrow quirked as the corner of her mouth curled into a small smirk of amusement.

"My superiors?" she asked with a slight laugh, "You? Really? We're actually gonna go with that?"

"Listen here Freak," the large boy growled, shoving Isabella back... obviously meaning for her to fall to her butt... Isabella stumbled back a step before regaining her balance, her fist clenching in her pockets as she tried to keep her temper under control. "No one talks to me like that! You need to watch your mouth Midget!"

"Oh new nickname," she commented as a large Cheshire Cat grin spread across her lips, "You do know more than one insult, good for you." A small giggle rumbled through the watching crowd at her words, making the large boy glower at them all before his fist shot forward towards Isabella... who ducked.

The boy stumbled under the force of his own punch as Isabella slid out of his way, leaving her leg out for him to trip over, his grin smoothing out into an amused smirk as he landed face down in the dirt. Laughter erupted through the crowd as the large boy lay on the ground, Isabella stood as if nothing had happened... until a sniffle sounded from the bully.

"He's crying!" another boy shouted loudly, making the laughter of the crowd echo louder... causing Isabella's smirk to drop into a frown at the stupidity of her classmates.

With a small huff she stepped towards the boy, who by this time had sat up and was cradling his nose... which had apparently hit the floor when he tripped. "You okay?" she asked curiously, making him glower up at her.

"Of course not!" he snapped, his voice slightly muffled due to his hands. "You broke my nose!"

"You broke your own nose," She replied simply before offering him her hand to get him up off the floor. "Do you need help getting to a teacher?"

"I don't need help from the daughter of a man who murdered his own wife!" he shouted at her.

In an instant the crowd around the two fell eerily silent, and Isabella's expression morphed into an expression so pissed off the boy she was aiming it at paled dramatically... until her converse clad foot collided hard with his gut, making him gasp and curl over on himself in pain as she growled and turned on her heel to grab her book and storm away.

See... after his wife's disappearance Bobby Singer had taken his only daughter and disappeared from Sioux Falls too, only returning three years ago. The bright, happy, chirpy little girl that Sioux Falls had gotten to know over the three years of her life, returned quiet, withdrawn and well... angry. Rumour of the town was that Bobby Singer had killed his wife, in front of their child, and run away from the consequences, taking Isabella with him... this rumour also happened to be something that eleven year old Isabella Singer was starting to believe for herself.

"Miss Singer!" a stern voice shouted across the playground as she stormed towards the school gates. "Where are you...? Miss Singer! STOP!"

Isabella just kept walking, her knuckles white as they gripped onto the large book in her arms, her eyes narrowed and her mind set on going home and confronting her father.

Bobby Singer wasn't home when Isabella got there. Instead she found an unfamiliar man sat in her father's chair swigging out of a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label as he flicked through one of the many books scattered around the small house. "So where's your dad, kid?" he asked as Isabella stood in the doorway, watching him cautiously.

"How am I supposed to know?" she asked back as she watched him have another gulp from the bottle. "Who're you?"

"Who am I?" he asked in shock finally looking up at her, making her frown at him, "I'm your God Father."

"Don't have a God Father," she replied smoothly, "Would have met you before now if I did."

"True," he nodded, "and you have met me before now... the night your mother was killed." Isabella's eyes narrowed at his words... at his confirmation that her mother was indeed murdered.

"What do you know about my mom?" she snarled at him.

"I know what happened to her," he replied smoothly as he put the book and the bottle down, leaning his elbows on his knees as she folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him.

"The hell, are you doing here?" a new voice joined the conversation, making Isabella whip around, her glare landing on her father who was glowering at the man sat in his chair.

"What really happened to mom?" Isabella cut off whatever the two men were going to talk about. "You've had me reading all this crap about monsters and demons... you make me carry around that stupid dagger thing... what the hell is going on?!"

"Izzy, honey," he started as he took a step towards her but Isabella just took a step back and shook her head.

"Did you kill mom?" she asked simply, the look of guilt that crossed Bobby's face was unmistakable, and Isabella's jaw dropped in shock before she took off out of the room, out of the house, and out of the scrap yard...

8 Years Ago

Twelve year old Isabella Singer crept through the darkened house silently, her Glock 29, 10mm loaded with Silver Bullets clutched in her hand as she kept her senses aware of everything around her... including the crash that had just sounded from a room down the hall.

Cocking her gun, Isabella moved swiftly down the hall, keeping her footsteps silent and her back to the wall before she turned her head around the doorframe, her gaze landing on the silhouette of what she assumed was the reason she was there. Bringing her gun up, Isabella took aim, before an arm looped around her neck and her gun was knocked across the room.

"Whoa there," a deep voice chuckled before it groaned as Isabella's head slammed backwards, colliding hard with their nose.

"Dean!" an older and deeper voice called in concern, but Isabella had pulled out of 'Dean's' hold and had spun around, her foot colliding hard with his gut , knocking him to the floor before he grabbed her leg and knocked her to the floor too. She landed on top of him and her fist collided hard with his face before a very familiar 'click' had her freezing as the lights snapped on.

The guy she was on top of and had just finished pummelling was handsome, very handsome actually... and was probably around seventeen or eighteen and he was looking up at her in utter shock. "You just got the crap kicked out of you by a girl," a younger voice commented in amusement, making Isabella look up in anger and confusion, her gaze landing on another boy around her age who was smirking in amusement as he stood next to a man who was obviously their dad.

"Shit," Isabella muttered before getting off her feet, moving to collect her gun before she started towards the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the man was suddenly in between her and the door as she stuffed her gun into the back of her jeans. "Who the hell are you?"

"None of your damn business," she replied simply before shrugging past him and heading out of the door, muttering to herself about having to start all over again since these guys were obviously hunters too.

"Wait! I know her," the younger guy's voice sounded as she headed out, "That's the girl in all those pictures at Bobby's house." Isabella froze at his words before something clicked in her brain as she recognised John Winchester.

"Isabella?" John's voice asked curiously, making her shake her head before walking off again.

It wasn't long before Isabella found herself in the empty house she'd took residence in while she was in town, and let's just say she wasn't surprised in the slightest when John Winchester and his sons walked into the room as she sat by the small fire she'd made in the fireplace reading through her notes and the many books she'd collected over the year she'd been hunting on her own.

"Your dad's worried about you," was the first thing out of John Winchester's mouth as his sons dropped down near the fire with her, the younger one handing her a brown bag containing a cheese burger and fries as the older one, Dean, took her notes from her to read over. "He's been trying to look for you."

"Obviously not that much since I've come in contact with a lot of cops and none of them know I'm a runaway," Isabella replied simply as she put the brown bag down and picked up a heavy, leather bound book. "You already called him, huh?"

"Yup," Dean replied simply making her clench her jaw a shake her head.

"And let me guess..." she sighed, "He wants you to keep an eye on me?"

"Pretty much," John replied, making her scoff slightly.

"Yeah that's some fatherly concern right there," she muttered irritably before picking up a sheet of paper she'd printed out at the library about the latest missing person.

"He just wants you safe," the younger boy piped up, making her look up at him disbelievingly before looking back at her papers.

"Look, don't do me any favours, okay?" she told the three, "I'm fine on my own... I have been for the last year."

"Where'd you get the gun?" John asked curiously, making her clench her jaw and glower up at him before going back to her reading, "Yeah, thought so."

"So I stole it yeah," she shrugged, "Like you three never stole anything before."

"Look, you're obviously doing great on your own," Dean started, making his dad and brother turn and frown at him, which had her smirking. "I mean, this research is some of the best I've ever seen, but it's not safe for a twelve year old to be on their own."

"Oh so I'll be safer with three strange guys than I would on my own?" she asked sarcastically, "Because that makes sense."

"How about, we do this hunt together?" the younger guy suggested, "Then after that we'll see how it goes?"

"Not a bad idea Sammy," John agreed, making Isabella roll her eyes at them all before going back to her research.

"Whatever," she replied simply, "but if my dad turns up, I'm out of here."

"Okay," John nodded before taking her book off of her and forcing the brown bag into her hands, "Now eat." Isabella scoffed before doing as she was told.