A/N: Twilight was created by Stephenie Meyer. Similary, Control was developed by Remedy Entertainment and published by 505 Games. I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines.

I post on both A03 and FanFiction, take your pick in whichever you prefer to read.~.
I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 ~ A Different Type of New Girl


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Isabella buried herself in her coat, wishing that she still had something left in her cup as she felt another shiver crawl down her spine.

It was a habit she was trying to break, now. People tended to disapprove when one ate as if… as if their life depended on it. But... well, old habits and heavy chains, she supposed.

Rubbing the bruises under her eyes, she returned to her laptop, skimming through the report she already knew was finalised. She'd found herself simplifying half of the terms, leaving the other half untouched with notes asking for a deeper explanation before she even began to touch on the subject they offered.

It's a very Emily like report, Isabella mused. It skipped through half the rules while presenting a fascinating idea, jumping from one concept to another until it forced the reader to take a step back to grasp the sheer genius behind it.

Time well spent, though. Understanding the differences between altered items might allow them the chance of solidifying their independence. More so if they figured why some of those objects would bond to humans.

Her eyes darted to the midnight coloured ring on her finger, absently rubbing it with her thumb as she pondered at her thoughts.

She wasn't happy with the arrangement. Less so knowing that her friend had done it in misplaced sympathy. She understood it, of course. Jesse hadn't been happy that Isabella was effectively a child soldier being used to assist her battles. That had been before she'd realised Isabella was the only person that had enough experience to make sure the FBC didn't fall apart while she accustomed herself to being its new director.

She scowled, saving the file before she slammed her laptop closed. Quelling her irritation, she threw her head back into her seat, letting out a sharp breath as she tried focusing on more positive thoughts.

...

She was still getting used to her short hair. Except for two long locks that still graced her hips, the rest barely reached her nape, forming a pixie-like cut that had meant to mean something.

Maybe it was proof that she wasn't mourning her mentor's death.

Maybe it was proof that she wasn't at a breaking point after watching her home pushed to the brink of destruction.

Or, maybe it was proof that she was finally over her ridiculous crush on a woman almost double her age.

Ha... a work in the progress, she supposed, removing her headphones as she turned expectantly towards the flight attendant.

"We will be arriving shortly, er- Ma'am." The man hastily adds. "S-so if you could please power off your electronic devices..."

"Sure." She forces herself to meet his eyes with a smile. "Do thank the captain for me, would you? It's by far been one of my more pleasant flights." She switches her phone off, waiting until he turns before she looks back up. "Oh, and Mr Firuza?" The man gives a slight jump, turning towards her with slightly wide eyes. "I'd go with the cyan one, he has a bad experience with red." She winks, her smile becoming genuine with his wide-eyed ewe expression followed by a delighted nod.

It is still fun, she thought, to still be able to impress kids with her abilities. Sometimes it was all too easy to only focus on the darker parts of the world.

...Not kids, though, are they? Bad Izzy. You're seventeen, he's thirty-four, you're younger than him.

Her good mood now dead, she remembered she'd be forced into the presence of children for the foreseeable future.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of misery as the plane gently landed onto the lane.

It really had been one of the better flights she'd had.

There'd been no death or explosions, and, well, nowadays Isabella truly had such low standards.


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Charlie hesitated; his fingers fiddling with the zip of his jacket as he watched the plane land on the lane. While not particularly knowledgeable on the subject, it was easy to note the rich atmosphere they both radiated.

Which said much of how clueless Charlie felt about the entire situation.

It'd been over a year when Renée had phoned him near tears; over a year when his daughter had disappeared from the face of the earth, all forms of contact either blocked or redirected to equally clueless parties.

It'd been a confirmation, almost. That one day he'd daughter would just... stop existing. That he'd truly never see her again.

It'd been months of nightmares, desperately searching for any clues he'd known he'd never find. Asking and thinking of possibilities he couldn't even begin to wrap his brain around.

If nothing else, the Federal Bureau of Control knew how to erase its traces.

He'd know, having had the same threat towards him if he didn't keep his silence.

His voice died in his throat, unsure whether he should call for his daughter as she stepped down the stairs, sharing some words with one of the attendants before she turned towards him.

Hesitantly, she offered a smile, walking towards him with an awkward wave. "Sup."

"Ah- Sup." He blinks, stopping himself from cringing as he stops a mirroring wave. "How have you been, Bella?"

Her lips twitched, posture easing as she slowly twirled. "Now that I've passed the one hundred and fifty centimetres? Fantastic. Give me a year and I'll reach one hundred and eighty." She smirked, opening her free arm to offer a hug.

"Who am I to crush such dreams?" He snorted, almost desperately accepting the embrace.

Somehow, he thought as he let her go, even when she'd grown so much taller, she felt so incredibly smaller. Maybe it was the far larger coat she wore, maybe it was the dark bruises that laid under her eyes. Or, maybe it was the smile on her face, her eyes crinkled with barely hidden exhaustion. As if she'd like nothing more than to dig the deepest of holes and bury herself inside of them.

"Dreams?" She said in faux scandal. "You wish. Just you wait, Chief. I can still grow! Two meters are not out of my reach!"

He laughed. What else could he do but laugh?

"Ah. We might want to head to your car." She adjusted her posture, moving her case as her eyes darted to the sky. "Better not have me bore from the rain before we get to Forks, right?"

"Oh, er- right." He nods, eyes flickering towards the rectangular case as he leads her to the car. "How has your mother been lately?"

"Good, she was-" Bella stops, hesitating before forcing her smile to return. "Well, she's been good." She nods, taking a seat in the car as she straps her belt on.

He doubted it.

"I found a car you might like." He offers, turning the engine on before reversing towards the road. "More of a truck, actually. A Chevy."

Bella smiles, no flicker of surprise on her expression. "I'm sure it's beautiful." She affirms knowingly.

"Yeah. Well... you remember Billy Black, my-?"

"Brother in all but blood?" She smirks, eyes twinkling mischievously that hits Charlie with sudden dread. "Your soul brother? Comrade in arms? Partner in non-?"

"Okay! Okay, I get it." Charlie groans, remembering why he hadn't wanted Bella to recognise his friend. "Yes, that one!"

"Oh, goody!" She smiles, leaning next to a window with a smile. "I have so many notes to compare with him."

Charlie sighs, trying not to smile at himself as he focuses on the road.

As much as the two had enjoyed embarrassing him, he'd also been thrilled to know they'd gotten along so well.

A little too well, if he was honest.

"Thanks for getting me a car, dad." She adds.

"Well, I doubt it's that much to start with." He smiles wryly. "My daughter, already earning ten times my income before she's eighteen.

She blinks, a questioning expression forming as she tilts her head in curiosity.

Charlie shrugs, hoping she doesn't start that conversation here. She nods, hand going through her head as she does so a second time.

"It's the thought that counts" She assures, leaning into her seat as she stares at the road. "Besides, they don't build them as they used to." She echoes, eyes studying him patiently.

His finger's twitch on the wheel, but he ignores the words floating in his mind. It's the most he's willing to offer. At least for now.

She slumps slightly, eyes darting towards her side window in silence.

The rest of the trip is silent, both lost in their thoughts as the humming of the engine clashes with the pattering of raindrops.

It's okay, though, Charlie thinks, fingers drumming on the wheel as his daughter wears her headphones.

His daughter is alive. And right now, that's enough.


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Isabella wears the coat of a dead woman.

Her finger dons a ring of forgotten heroes, while her neck carries a necklace of broken memories.

When she'd been a child, she'd carried a single, small scar she had on her right index finger. A small cut she'd had in a silly attempt to make something to eat.

When she walks in almost eight years after, she's decorated in scars, clashing and mixing with a tattoo, a story that each can claim to be told.

She'd had long hair, then. Shorter as well, she supposed. For all the little girl had seen and understood, she always had wondered how'd she end in times to come.

Things work in circles, Isabella found. You can walk as stubbornly as you like, but you'd always find yourself at the point you'd started. Eventually, perhaps.

"So..." Charlie tries, staring hesitantly as she blinks away from the mirror.

"Just like I remembered it." She smiles, eyes darting through the room as she slowly walks in circles.

Her finger drummed on the desk, eyes flickering to the child's hand-drawn figures before turning back at her father.

"Yeah. I, er-, I didn't want to touch anything when... well." He grimaces, hand going through his hair in action not too different from her own. "I supposed I ended up just not touching anything after you moved." He says diplomatically.

"Do you mind helping me unbox later?" She asks, finger knocking thrice on one of the bigger boxes. "I need to unwind from the flight."

"Sure." He smiles, both relieved at a more normal familiar territory. "Is seven okay? I can order some food while you are resting."

"Sounds wonderful." She smiles, waiting until the door closes before she can sit down. fingers drumming on the floor before she chooses to lie on it entirely.

She's already exhausted, she realises warily.

And it'll be worse tomorrow, she knows. Her fingers tap at the beat of the music as her eyes observe the painted ceiling.

She pulls out a small notebook, reaching for a pencil as she scribbles a note to her future self.

She still had some few days before Emily's work was due, and any report she had for the week had already been examined and sent back to HQ. She supposed she could try window shopping, but even the act of standing seemed too overwhelming at this moment.

This might be good for you, Izzy, she lies knowing full well how much she'll hate every moment.

What did she even have in common with teenagers? It'd been years since she'd even spoken to one!

Isabella forced herself to her knees, rubbing her eyes as she crossed one leg over the other. She lets out a sharp exhale, reaching for a pencil as she carefully balances it on the base of her index finger.

She blows gently, feeling a slight waver at her core as she watches the target spin almost hypnotically.

I could just skive, she contemplates, staring blankly at the spinning pencil. But that would lead to me having another argument with Charlie, and just when we start to move past it as well...

Jesse would also be disappointed, a whisper echoed in her head.

So? She hisses back. I'm above stupid crushes.

The new director was still her friend, though, and she had meant well when she'd arranged this holiday for Isabella.

Be grateful, her mind reproaches, many never get to see their family's again.

And she was grateful. She really, really was. She'd been so grateful when she'd sen her Renée again. So guilt-ridden that she'd caused her mother so much distress, that she'd almost ruined her mother's second marriage.

And Charlie too, even if it'd been some time since she'd had a proper conversation with the man.

She'd hoped he'd understand, being a chief of police, why she needed to be an FBC agent. It was more than just an obligation, it...

Isabella loved her job. No matter how dark the world would often turn, no matter how many friends she'd watch end, it...

It was a meaning. It gave her more than just existence.

And she was getting good at it. Why else would she be the Head of operations? Why else would she be part of Jesse's management team?

And yet, here she was, playing house with children.

Isabella flinched, the edge of the pencil exploding into splintered ends.

She breathed in. She exhaled.

She wiped her cheek, some few drops of blood staining her hand as she idly tilted her head.

It was fine. She'd give it a try. And if it didn't work she'd skive.

It was more than anyone should ask from her, after all.

But then, the world didn't stop talking just because one felt they had lost enough, did it?


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Rosalie is not allowed to punch any human in the face.

Nor is she allowed to ruin their reputation. She is not allowed to arrange accidents, much like she is not allowed to destroy their sanity. She is forbidden from manipulating, forbidden from having their friendship fall apart and very forbidden to ensuring they become addicted to no-chemical activities.

This means there's little she can do when a nameless boy attempts to woo her. Because Emmett is clearly not the love of her life, much like him being her sibling is wrong.

Not for the first time, she wonders if perhaps she should have another extended honeymoon with Emmett. Because as much as she loves her family, there are times where their rules really do drive her up the wall.

When she does finally ditch the fool, her mood is already fouler than usual, unhappy that her husband - who currently is not allowed to be her husband - is quelling his thirst, and therefore not at her side.

This is also when she finds her brother, awkwardly still as a girl blocks the door's entrance. If possible, her mood worsens, storming as much as her grace allows her as she puts a hand on Edwards's shoulder.

"He's not interested." She hisses, looking forward to tearing the girl a new one.

Honestly, her family is far too nice. Edwards has always been too sensitive, never realising that letting his stalkers off easily is going to only make his life worse in the long run.

Hell, the girl should even be thanking her. Better destroy the crush before it forms and save her from the heartbreak.

"Really?" She asks fascinatedly. "Are you sure he doesn't use makeup?" She frowns, leaning closer as she studies Edward with a pensive frown. "It's all-natural?"

"...What?"

It's only her knowledge that she would never respond in such an undignifying manner that Rosalie knows she is not the one that's blurted such an uncouth response.

"I mean..." The girl gives a weak wave of her hand, indicating his face as she tilts her head. "It's the type of face you see in Hollywood movies. With pretty people and expert make up. Not teenage high school, you know?"

"Oh?" Rosalie intones. Despite herself, she finds herself amused at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

"...Are you sure he doesn't use your make-up?" She asks, blinking before she widens her eyes in what Rosalie suspects is now more of an act. "Not that I have a problem with it." She hastily adds, turning towards her brother. "It's the twenty-first century; if that's what you prefer then kudos to you."

Her eyes flicker towards the crowd, and oh, Rosalie feels just the faintest amount of respect for someone that's just alienated herself from the entire school and can't bring herself to care about it.

"If he does," Rosalie smiles genuinely, ignoring Edwards scandalised hiss as she meets the girl's eyes, "then that's Edwards business and his alone. Our family will love him just as much with or without it. We don't much care what others think."

She stares at Rosalie for a moment, blinking slowly as her gaze flickers. "Oh, you're good." She nods, a smirk slowly growing on her face as she extends a hand. "Isabella Swan. Things exploding in the future are probably my fault. So don't bother asking me to apologise."

"Rosalie Hale." She grasps the hand. "Congratulations. I'll also have my eyes on you, an honour, I assure you."

"More than good." Isabella rectifies, running through the wording before she takes a step back with a wink. "I'll see you around Ms Hale, pretty boy."

And just like that, she walks through the door in a manner not too dissimilar to her sisters.

"What?" Edward echoes, expression too lost to even form a decent sentence.

"Edward," She stops herself from laughing, feeling in a far better mood as she guides her brother into the school. "I hope that isn't how you usually speak to women, or I truly worry for any soul that falls for your face.

"No! That isn't-" He turns towards her, eyes wide with panic as he meets her gaze. "I couldn't read her thoughts. There was nothing, just... nothing."


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Unfortunately, the start of her morning proved to be an anomaly; Isabella had found school to be just as dull as she'd initially predicted.

For someone that had, for the most part, oscillated between tutors and private teachers, the clear gap between quality was... grating. It wasn't even that there was a distinction between professions. Yes, she had expected it to be different, but she'd also attended public schools before with just as skilled teachers.

It's just that...

The school itself was just so lacklustre. Worn paint and faded floors, stained windows and desks coated with age as the lights hummed with old lights. And it was so obvious that the teachers were simply working for a check, not for a passion.

Between bad teaching and worse sanitary conditions...

Well, not for the first time, she was grateful for the gloves Casper had given her.

Her thoughts turned sour. Chances were they were the last gift to her. The likelihood she'd ever see him again was... realistically zero.

Not interested in making conversation, she reaches for her smaller headphones, checking her hair covered both ears before she starts her first class.

As the morning passed, she found herself wondering if she could get away with sleeping through class. Surely, the teachers wouldn't care if she ignored their class?

...Yeah. She was definitely pushing it.

Muttering under her breath, she entered the trigonometry classroom. Smile masking a glare as she nods to the teacher.

Unfortunately, her luck does not hold.

"Ms Swan." The man's smile makes her twitch. She'd met enough people that this one leaves her wanting to nope the hell out of here and just walk out. "It's so good to meet you. Would you introduce yourself to the class?"

Do this for Charlie, she chants, eye twitching as her smile strains. For Charlie and Jesse.

"Sure." Her smile sharpens, noting the still filling class as she walks towards the board. Isabella Swan, rights with the chalk, turning to stare expectantly.

His eyes twitched as his smile tightened. "Perhaps a little more, Ms Swan?"

...She couldn't tell whether he had a grudge against her father, was trying to gain some favour from the Police's Chief daughter, or simply hated children.

She had the feeling it was the latter.

"Isabella Swan," she says drily to the class, eyes searching from the farthest chair, "briberies will only be accepted with high-quality puddings." She leans onto one of her legs, ignoring both the teacher and the snickering as she focuses on her music. "I like malasada. I dislike Haggis."

A trick about headphones. You tend to speak louder when you can't hear your own voice.

Tilting her head, she waits for another moment before she gives a decisive nod. Her hold on her bag tightens, walking nonchalantly towards the further chair as she pulls out a notebook. Sitting casually, she leans into a hand, the other drumming silently on the table not caring enough to meet the teacher's eye.

Perhaps realising she wouldn't budge, he starts the class, tone filled with frustration as he walks to his desk.

She can practically feel the glare digging into her skull.

"Isn't two headphones overkill?" A curious voice whispers at her side.

"That depends," She hums quietly, "If one is so that no one looks further then no."

She blinks when she meets the gaze of what might be one of the tiniest people she has ever seen. Dainty, actually. It's to the point that it takes her an actual moment to notice how pretty she is.

"You bring two headphones just to listen to music in class?"

Isabella raises an eyebrow, noting that she seems more amused than reproaching at the fact. "Well," She trails off with a smile, "it's not like he leaves much of an impression, you know?"

She's a little weary, now. It's one thing to be pretty. Another for an entire family to be breathtakingly... Well, she's yet to find any fault with their appearance. And in a job where a mirror could be your end, perfection tends to raise red flags all over.

Her instincts aren't screaming, though. It leaves her unsure of whether or not she should come armed next time.

"He doesn't, does it?" Her lips start forming into a smile, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Isn't it a little early for opera? Not that I mind, Edwards loves opera. Just, I'm not sure how you stand the singing. What language is that anyway?"

"Ah. It's fine." Isabella finds herself smiling as she removes one of her earphones. "And it's Tango, Finnish Tango."

"Oh," She blinks, sending her a curious look. "I wasn't aware that was something people listened to nowadays? Apart from Edward. But I swear he's practically a grandfather inside. Not that I'm calling you a grandfather inside, it's just... wait, can you understand Finnish?"

"Vaguely. Can't read it to save my life, though." She tilts her head, fingers twirling her pencil as the lecture dulls into her background. "And chances are I have at least every major genre on me."

"You do? And you can?" She seems torn for a moment, eyes blurring before she focuses on her own pair of eyes. "Have you been to Finland before? Do you like travelling? I'm assuming you do. Or is it more academic?"

Izzy giggles, quickly covering her mouth so she isn't heard. "Both, actually." She smiles, sending her an amused glance as the other offers a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," She apologises, "I tend to rumble when I'm... well, I tend to rumble."

"Let me assure you," Isabella leans into her hand, eyes softening as she meets the others. "I find you rumbling nought if not charming, Ms Hale."

"Er..." The girl blinks, "Cullen. It's, er-, Alice Cullen."

It's Izzy's turn to blink, tilting her face curiously. "Huh. Well, I do apologise Ms Cullen. You bear an uncanny resemblance to a Ms Hale I met today. My fault for assuming then, Ms Cullen."

"Alice." She offers, a smile already on her lips as she offers a hand. "And your assumption was correct. We are sisters. Just adopted. It's why we were put in the same orphanage." Alice smiles sheepishly.

"Then you may call me Isabella, Alice." Izzy smiles, shaking her hand under the desk. Idly, she notes how cold it is.

Before she can formulate her sentence, the back of her mind flares. Sparks of warning echo in her mind as she turns towards her notebook. Her hand writes notes as the teacher turns towards them, a scowl on his features at the missed opportunity.

Curiously, Alice has reacted the same, solely focused on her notes as a pen lies in her hand.

And despite herself, Isabella finds herself impressed. Whatever Alice was, it gave her a terrifyingly fast reaction time if she'd processed it all from Izzy's reaction.

After all, Izzy tended to be accused of cheating with most aspects regarding life.

Being able to see through time tended to do that, she was told.


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Okay. So, first of all; I'm alive.

Super busy, though. Had to put a stop to every fic for the past few months. Only started having a bit of time now, and really wanted to get this idea if only on one chapter. A Control and Twilight crossover, which I'm fairly certain is a first of it's kind. Probably.

None the less, if you felt I should have written something differently, be it personality and/or displays of different states of mentality, please leave a comment! Any advice is welcome and appreciated!

Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao!

~ Sapphire and Emeralds