A/N: Thank you for reading this story. I originally wrote this in 2014 and lost access to my account (it's an awfully long story.)

I'm now rewriting the chapters to flow and read better. I apologize for having the repost the entire story. It wouldn't allow me to update the other!

Premise: Anastasia Steele is fostered by Grace and Carrick after her father becomes ill. How will Ana handle growing up with Christian, Elliot and Mia? And after she leaves and years pass, what will happen when Ana and Christian meet again?

Please let me know your thoughts. The beginning of this story will skip through time periods.

Christian Grey scowled at the sight from his window. A black truck pulled into the drive; he could see a crying girl sitting in the front seat. His parents immediately stepped outside to greet them, looking as welcoming as the day when they took him and his siblings in.

At his young age, he couldn't understand his parents need to help this family, or why they were being brought into it. He rolled his eyes at the sight of his parents fawning over the crying girl, hugging her as well as the man that had arrived with her.

He felt a wave of jealousy overcome him, tearing at his insides.

Knock, knock.

"Christian, mom wants you to come downstairs." His adopted and older brother Elliot called from outside of the door.

Christian let out an exasperated sigh, and opened the door to see the young blonde, curly haired teenager standing there. Next to him stood the vivacious Mia, already a handful at the young age of eight.

"Come on." His brother said, and because Christian knew the argument that would ensue had he declined, he followed.

The cries echoed in the foyer of the young girl that stood there, her hand tightly gripping a sickly-looking man. Christian frowned at them, already annoyed by her tears.

"Ana, sweetie. This is for the best. Dr. Trevelyan-Grey and Mr. Grey are going to take good care of you."

"But daddy..." She cried and looked fearfully around the room at the siblings that had just arrived. The little girl immediately flung herself into her father's arms, "I want you to take care of me."

Christian looked to his parents, both with tears streaming down their cheeks. He furrowed his brow, looking back at the man and his daughter and recalling the conversation his family had had days prior.

Flashback

"Kids." Carrick began with a clearing of his throat. "Your mother and I need to speak with you about something."

As their housekeeper walked around collecting the plates of those finished, all three children perked up with interest.

"We're going to have another little girl coming to live with us."

Elliot was the first to speak, "What? Why?"

Christian quietly agreed with his questions.

"We already have a little girl here." Mia said, her nose turned up.

Christian wondered how'd she deal with being 'old news'.

"As you'll all remember, one of the hospital staff that I've been friends with for a long time had been diagnosed with..." She paused remembering her audience, "He's very sick, and he'll not likely make it."

"You mean he'll die?!" Elliot asked.

Grace frowned at him, "Don't yell at the table Elliot. Yes, he will pass away quickly."

"How sad." Mia squeaked.

Christian rolled his eyes; he was glad his parents hadn't noticed.

"This man, Ray, has a lovely little girl that has no other family. She was adopted by him at birth."

"Like us?" Christian finally spoke, his already deep voice cracking slightly.

"Yes sweetheart. Like you. When he passes, she'll have no one to go to. As well as, he doesn't want her to see him being sick. So, your father and I have decided, since we are familiar with the adoption and fostering system, she will stay with us for a while and as long as the paperwork goes through successfully, she'll live with us."

"You're going to adopt her too?" Christian asked.

"Well... if that's what we need to do son." Carrick replied.

"But there's already enough of us. We don't need another kid here."

"Christian! That is not how we raised you. This family needs our help."

"I don't want her here!" He scooted back from the table, running into his room.

Flashback Over

"But we've already talked about this Ana-Banana. Sweetheart, I'll call you. Keep this phone on you."

Christian laughed to himself at her nickname.

"Be strong for me little girl, okay?" The man croaked out.

His daughter tightened her arms around him, crying as loud as Christian had ever heard.

He suddenly felt guilty for his reaction to her arrival.

"Ana, sweetheart," Grace said quietly. "I'd like to introduce you to my children."

Carrick had stepped outside with the girl's father, after a tearful goodbye. The girl continued to sniff back tears, wiping her stained cheeks occasionally with the back of her hand. Christian vaguely wondered her age.

"This is Mia." Mia raised her little hand, waving it. "Elliot," He nodded to her, a small smile on his face. "And this is Christian." He stood staring at her, his brow furrowed.

"Kids, this is Anastasia Steele. That was her father Raymond Steele. Ana will be staying with us for a while. Mia, remember when we had set up Ana's room yesterday?"

Mia nodded enthusiastically. "Come on! I'll show you." His little sister held out her hand to the crying girl. After a moment of contemplation, she took it and they ran upstairs.

"Boys," Grace began, turning and giving them her best motherly stare. "I expect you to both be kind to Ana. This is a very traumatic situation for her."

"Then why isn't she with a family she knows better?" Christian snapped.

"Christian! I've known Ana since she was much younger, she doesn't have a family she knows better. Now I raised you to be more respectful than that."

"Sorry." He looked down, ashamed.

Christian sat at their dining room table a week later, a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him. His parents had left for work; his mother would be working late in the hospital while his father would be in court most of the day.

Linda, their housekeeper, was busy working in the kitchen, waiting for the other children to wake up. The end of summer was soon approaching, which generally meant that Linda would be busy preparing for when school started.

"Good morning." A small voice said, and Christian looked up to see Ana standing there in her night gown and robe.

He swallowed his food, suddenly uncomfortable. A week of being there, and it had been the first time they had been in a room alone. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he had been ignoring her.

"Um. Morning." He said back, before looking back to his pancakes.

"Oh Ana! You're awake, go ahead and take a seat. I'll bring you some breakfast. Orange juice, milk, or apple juice?" The housekeeper asked, her voice warm as she spoke to her.

"Oh, orange, please." She replied with a small smile. Ana sat two seats away from him, occasionally looking at him eat. "You eat like you haven't for days." She mentioned casually with a small laugh.

His brow furrowed and he looked up at her, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be mean. Are you always so serious?"

"Do you always cry every night?" He snapped back. "I mean honestly, I can't sleep. It's getting old."

"I'm so sorry that I'm keeping you up crying because I miss my dad!"

"Maybe you should go back to him!"

Anastasia Steele felt a stabbing pain right in her heart. She let out a small gasp that sounded like a strangled cry.

She couldn't go back to him. He was dying.

"You're a jerk." She said quietly and stood, walking into the kitchen.

At eleven years old, Ana found herself having to grow up quicker than the kids in her grade. Her father, Ray Steele, had approached her one day to tell her he was sick. She didn't quite understand all the terms, but she wasn't so young as to not know what the word cancer meant.

It was the other words that confused her. Stage Four. Hospice.

Dr. Trevelyan-Grey had explained that he wouldn't be able to be home, and that where he was going to have someone care for him, she couldn't go with. Her father also explained that he wouldn't be coming back.

Ana had met Dr. Trevelyan-Grey when she was seven. Her father had taken her in to 'take your daughter to work day', where she sat and played on his computer throughout the day. The doctor had been nothing but kind to her while other doctors seemed annoyed by her presence.

When Ray had suggested that Ana stay with the doctor and her family, she was heartbroken. She didn't want to say good-bye to her father, but it was the only person she knew that 'had the means', or so her father said.

Both Dr. Trevelyan-Grey and Mr. Grey were kind people. Mia was sweet, and Elliot was a kind well-mannered teenager. Christian, on the other hand, had been cold to her since her arrival.

"Ana! Come on, come eat with us." She turned upon hearing her name to see Elliot standing there and motioning her over. She grabbed her plate and orange juice and walked towards him.

Mia was now seated at the table looking like she had just woken, and Christian was still there sullen as ever.

"Christian has something to say," Elliot began before nudging his brother.

"I'm sorry..."

Ana said nothing but sat back down. She tugged the phone out of the robe pocket that her father had given her, waiting for him to contact her.

She needed to hear his voice.

Two months later

"Daddy?" She cried into the phone, as her father coughed on the other end. He barely sounded like himself anymore.

Grace sat next to her, holding her hand as tears streamed down her face.

"I think this may be the last time we talk Annie." Her father let out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Daddy, no!"

"Please don't make this harder. Tell me what you're learning about in school."

"I... I learned about different cells and parts of them. And we're reading a new book." She sobbed.

"Keep working hard baby girl. And behave for Dr. Trevelyan-Grey, okay?"

"Yes daddy..."

"I love you Ana-banana. We'll see each other again... I promise."

"I love you too daddy..."

The phone clicked and she let out a sob, releasing Grace's hand and curling over; the pain was unbearable.

Christian watched from the stairs, silent and unmoving. They had kept their distance since she had moved in, but this he could understand.

Elliot and Mia had come from situations where the parents were still living but were unable to keep their children. He, however, had lost his mother at a young age. He still had nightmares of her and her pimp from time to time, and he was told by his therapist that it was the reason he acted out.

He grieved for Ana, there on the stairs, and wondered if she would end up as broken as he was.