Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the WWE.

Author's Note: Hey! Thank you to x0allisonqt0x, ThePinkyPop, stephiexo95, Twisted-Skittle, and StraightxEdgex1991 for your great reviews! Glad you liked the prologue! Here's chapter one. Enjoy!

Chapter 1- Belle

Twelve months later...

Isabella Calaway stepped out of the backseat of the taxi cab, shivering in the cool air as she looked up at the two-story wooden house she would be staying in for some time. It was the house that her father had moved into from his home in Death Valley to be with her mother after they got married, one that she hadn't seen since she had left for college in warm, sunny California to become an art major. It was hard to be back in the often harsh Minneapolis winter where she had grown up.

It had been at a show in this city that her father's beloved wrestling career had come to an abrupt end.

Then, Isabella looked away from the house and pulled her bags out of the backseat, thanking and paying the driver before she began to go up the walkway that led up to where she used to live. She stepped onto the porch, bending down and picking up that day's newspaper that her father hadn't gotten yet. She quickly scanned over the top story, seeing that it was something about a murderer in the area that hadn't been caught yet, before ringing the doorbell.

She only had to wait for a moment before she heard the click of the lock as the door was pulled open, and she grinned as she held up the newspaper. "Good news, they haven't caught you yet," she told the tall, dark-haired man looking back at her.

Mark Calaway laughed a little. "Well, what can I say? They'll never catch me," he said. Then, he smiled as he pulled his daughter into a tight hug. "Good to see you again, Belle."

"You too, Dad," Belle replied, hugging him back before she released him. "I just wish I could see you more than on my breaks."

"The most important thing is that you finish school, Belle." Mark bent down and picked up her three bags before slowly walking back into the house. "Finish your last semester, and then you can talk to me."

Belle watched him limp through the living room, her gaze landing on his left knee, which was protected by a brace. She remembered hearing about him being injured during a wrestling show twelve months before in a match against a man who's ring name was Edge. Her father had been forced to retire due to the injury, and Edge and a few wrestlers close to him hadn't been seen since.

"How's your knee?" Belle asked as she followed him into the living room. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Mark set her bags on the couch, sighing as he turned to look at her. "Belle, listen to me," he muttered, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I know you're concerned, but it's not your responsibility to take care of me. You're young and have a bright future ahead of you. I'm past that. Besides, I'm fine. I get around a bit slower than I used to, but it's nothing I can't handle. You need to be focusing on what you're going to do with your life, and if you don't, I'll shoot you."

The last comment made Belle laugh a little. "I can't help but worry about you, Dad," she said. "You're all I have."

"And you'll still have me. I'm not going anywhere." Mark smiled and kissed her head. "But I don't want you to feel like you're stuck here taking care of your old man. Nothing would make me happier than to see you out in the world following your dreams. That's what I want."

"Okay, Dad."

Mark laughed a little. "Don't sound too enthused, now." Then, he smiled as he brushed some of her blonde hair behind her ear. "You're getting more beautiful every time I see you."

Belle returned the smile. "I think your eyesight is starting to go, old man," she teased.

"Not quite," Mark replied. "You're really starting to look like your mother."

The compliment made Belle's smile broaden, yet also made her heart ache. She looked up at a picture that was hanging on the wall above the television of three people- her father, her when she was a little girl, and a beautiful, blonde-haired woman that was her mother. Her gaze saddened as she looked at their three smiling faces, knowing that this was the last picture they had taken together before her mother had died due to rare complications from pneumonia. To be told she looked like her was something she took to heart.

Seeming to know what was on her mind, Mark sighed as he picked up her bags again. "Come on, Belle, let's get these to your room," he said.

Belle looked away from the picture and followed Mark as he slowly made his way up the stairs. They came to a room at the end of the hall, and he pushed open the door and entered. Belle stopped in the doorway, looking around the room she had grown up in. There were two pictures sitting on her dresser, one of her and her mother on a slide and one of her and her father, dressed in his typical ring gear, wearing his black hat and holding his world championship. An easel was set up in the corner, her bookshelf filled with some of her favorite books and sketchbooks and littered with pencils, pens, erasers, and paint brushes. She smiled slightly as she looked around at some of her best paintings and sketches that were hanging on the walls, feeling great to be back in her old room.

Mark set her bags down on her bed next to the teddy bear he and his wife had gotten for their daughter when she was born. "Well, you can unpack now if you want, and then we can figure out what to do for dinner," he told her. "You know I don't cook, so we can order a pizza or something..."

"I can't do much better, but I can do Mom's old hamburger pie recipe," Belle replied, wanting to do something a bit more special than pizza on her first night back. "I know it's one of your favorites. What do you say?"

"I say you're being a suck up, that's what," Mark said with a laugh. "But it does sound good."

Belle smiled and laughed a little herself. "All right. Do I need to go to the store to get the stuff?" When Mark didn't say anything, she laughed again. "Luckily it's not far. I'll take a walk over there and pick it up."

"You don't have to, Belle," Mark said. "If you want, I can drive to pick it up. Or you can take the car. It's not in the best of shape, but it should get you there."

"It's okay, Dad. I just spent a long time on a plane and then took a taxi from the airport." Belle smiled. "Some walking would be good for me."

Mark looked at her for a long moment before sighing. "Okay, okay. But at least let me give you the money for it."

Belle didn't want to take his money, but she finally gave in. "Sure, Dad." Then, she gave him another hug. "Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

About ten minutes later, Belle left the house and began to walk to the grocery store a few blocks away. She smiled slightly as she looked around at the neighborhood she hadn't been in for a long time. She saw the park that she and her mother would often go to on a nice afternoon, the elementary school she had attended, the hobby store she had gotten most of her art supplies from. It was all so familiar, yet almost foreign to her now.

She entered the grocery store, seeing that they had done a lot of remodeling since the last time she had been there. Grabbing a basket, Belle started walking around, finding the aisle with canned vegetables as she began to get what she needed for dinner.

"Wow, Belle. Fancy seeing you here. It's been a long time."

Hearing the familiar voice, though not one she particularly wanted to hear, Belle turned and looked at the man standing in the aisle with her. "Yeah, it has," she agreed. "Since graduation."

John Hennigan, someone she had gone to high school with who had joined the WWE under the name John Morrison, smiled. "So, you went out to California for college, right?" he asked. "How's that going?"

"Fine. This is my last year," Belle answered, trying to act uninterested as she put a can of carrots and diced tomatoes in her basket. Her memories with the man weren't the best. "I'm home on break to help my dad out."

"Oh, yeah. I was there during the match when he was injured. I never liked the man that hurt your father, but I didn't expect him to do something like that," John muttered. "But it's good you're here to help."

"Yeah." Belle began to walk down the aisle to look for mashed potatoes, sighing quietly when John kept walking with her. "I just hate seeing his career that he loved so much cut so short."

"He was a good man, a good wrestler." Then, John smiled. "So, how long are you here for?"

"A month," Belle told him, finally finding what she needed.

"Do you want to do something while you're here? Catch up a bit?"

Belle put the box of mashed potatoes in the basket and turned to face him. "Look, I thought you got the point in high school," she told him. "I don't like you like that. So stop wasting your time and go after one of those brainless girls that are always hanging around you. I'm sure they would love to." Without another word, she spun around and headed off to get a pound of hamburger.

John stared after her with surprise, but then he crossed his arms as he glared after her. "Just wait, Belle," he muttered to himself. "Just wait."

"I think that went well."

Sighing, John turned and watched as his best friend and tag team partner Mike "the Miz" Mizanin approached him. He had been a few steps behind John and Belle during their discussion, having seen everything that had happened. "That was sarcasm, by the way," he quickly added when he saw the other man's angry expression.

"I know, Mike," John replied. "I just didn't expect that we'd see Belle."

MIke sighed. "I don't know why you keep going after her, Man," he said. "I mean, she's never really... well... fit in. And besides, she hated your guts in high school, and it looks like that hasn't changed. There are so many girls out there who want you, Man... Why focus on her?"

"Look at her, Mike. She's beautiful," John told him. "I don't want just any girl. I want her."

"But-!"

"No buts, Mike," John interrupted, a smirk appearing on his face. "Soon, Belle will come to see things my way. You'll see."

"John Hennigan? That boy used to have the biggest crush on you," Mark said, laughing a bit as he took a bite of the hamburger pie his daughter had made.

"Yeah, and it appears he still does," Belle muttered with an annoyed eyeroll. "I can't stand him... He's so conceited."

Mark smiled slightly. "I know, I worked with the guy," he told her. But when he mentioned the WWE, that smile faltered. "So, uh... Any boys out in California I need to be keeping my eye on?"

Belle laughed a little. "No, Dad," she assured him. "I'm not really looking for anyone. I want someone who truly cares about me, you know?"

"Yeah." Then, Mark smiled again. "Well, any candidates need to pass my judgement."

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The two didn't say anything for a bit while they ate their hamburger pie, neither really knowing what else to say. Then, Mark sighed quietly as he stretched his leg out, wincing a bit when he moved his hand to his knee.

"Are you okay, Dad?" Belle asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mark answered as he slowly straightened back up. "It's not really painful, but it gets stiff sometimes..."

Belle looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry this happened, Dad," she muttered.

"Don't be silly, it's not your fault." Mark gave her a small smile once the stiffness in his knee went away. "I sometimes wonder if this injury wasn't for the best. It got me thinking about a lot..."

"What do you mean?"

Mark sighed as he met his daughter's gaze. "This is something I should have told you a long time ago," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you much when you were growing up, especially after your mother died..."

Belle sighed too as she set her fork down. "Dad..."

"No, Belle. I realize I wasn't the best father I could have been," Mark continued quietly. "But now... Now that I can't travel around anymore, I can be that father for you, the one I should have been."

"Oh, Dad." Belle got to her feet and walked around the table, hugging Mark tightly. "You're the best."

Mark laughed a little as he wrapped his arm around her. "Well, I wouldn't go that far," he told her. "But I just want you to know how much I love you, kid. Now, finish your dinner before it gets cold."

Once they were both finished eating and the dishes were done, Belle said good night to her father and headed up to her room early since she was exhausted from the long trip. She changed into her pajamas and turned off the light before she collapsed onto her bed, propping herself up on her arm as she picked up the teddy bear she had gotten when she was a baby. She looked at it for a moment and smiled before looking at her bag sitting at the foot of her bed.

Sighing, Belle sat up and turned on the lamp at the head of her bed before unzipping her bag and pulling out her sketchbook. She turned to a page toward the middle where her nearly completed sketch of a rose she was working on was, looking at it closely to see what she could touch up.

Then, she quickly looked up when she heard a quiet knock on the door. "Come in," she said, putting the sketchbook back in her bag and zipping it up.

The door opened, and Mark stepped into the room. "Just making sure you're settling in okay," he told her.

Belle nodded. "Yeah, Dad," she replied. "Everything's okay."

"Good." Mark looked at his daughter for a long moment before sighing. "What's wrong, Belle? Are you not happy to be here?"

"No, I am. That's not it," Belle muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them.

Mark limped into the room and sat down on the bed next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Then what is it?" he asked.

Belle was quiet for a minute before turning to look at him. "I don't know..." she answered. "Going to the store today got me thinking about how I really don't belong anywhere..."

"What do you mean?"

"You have to admit I've never really fit in here," Belle continued quietly, looking down at her teddy bear again. "I've always been more on my own with my drawings... And even at school now I don't really fit in with anyone. Makes me wonder if I'll ever find a place to belong..."

Mark looked at his daughter sadly as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "I know it's difficult, Belle," he told her. "But you have your whole life ahead of you to find a place to call home. For now, you always have one here... with me."

Belle smiled as she looked up at Mark, hugging him tightly. "I know," she muttered. "Thanks, Dad."

"Of course. You're still my little girl, you know." Mark kissed her head before he released her and slowly got to his feet. "Get some sleep, Belle, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Dad." Belle climbed underneath her light blue covers and buried her face in her fluffy pillow, holding her childhood teddy bear close to her. It felt great to be in her own bed again. "Good night."

Mark smiled at his daughter, knowing that it wouldn't be long before she fell asleep as he turned off the lamp. "Good night, Belle."

Author's Note: That's it for that one! Thanks for reading. Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!