Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush.

A/N: Hey, guys! Hope you're all well. This is a story I'm very excited about and I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

23rd of December 2000

Anne Mickelson reluctantly put down her steaming hot chocolate down on the glass coffee table in front of her before pulling off her fleece blanket when the sound of the doorbell echoed through her living room. She got up from the couch and straightened her clothes as she glanced over at her four year old, Cassidy, whose eyes were glued to the glowing television set.

Anne's lips curled upwards in amusement as she watched the young girl watch a SpongeBob Christmas episode. The thirty-two year old glanced out the window to see if she could catch a glimpse of the person, who rang her door bell, but no. All that was visible to her was snowflakes falling onto ground that was already surfaced with snow.

She knew he was coming tonight but if she was completely honest with herself, she hoped he didn't. He seemed so uncertain if he was making the right choice and, even though Anne agreed to help, she feared he would regret it. But Anne did see the benefit of the plan and something told her that he knew it was the right thing.

Anne then headed out of the living room and into the hallway with the knowledge that her daughter would be safe watching TV while she briefly answered the door. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet as she walked towards the front door. Taking a deep breath, she took hold of the doorknob and twisted it slowly before opening the door.

"Hello-" she stopped abruptly when she didn't come face to face with the expected visitor.

It probably was one of those arrogant kids from the neighbourhood playing Ding Dong Ditch, she assumed. Normally, she wouldn't mind but it was Christmas Eve in just three days and people had better things to be doing than opening the door to nobody.

Just as Anne was about to shut the door, she heard a tiny, little noise. Raising an eyebrow, she looked down to see a basket with a baby girl lying in it that was probably no older than two years old. The baby girl was nestled comfortably in the basket with a lot of warm blankets covering her so she wouldn't get cold.

The baby girl was cooing softly as her big, green eyes were wide with amusement as she looked at Anne with her little, dainty hands formed harmless fists as her arms moved around. She had brown hair that was in the form of soft locks sitting on top of her head. Her lips curled upwards causing two dimples to appear as her slightly chubby cheeks turned rosy due to the cold.

How cliché, Anne thought as she bent down and picked up the baby carefully along with all the blankets that she was wrapped in.

She then saw a black van speeding down her street and she knew it was him. She didn't mind that he didn't come to do this face to face. If someone saw him and saw what he was doing along with recognising him, it would always haunt him. But maybe it would still haunt him no matter what.

Anne shook her head, getting rid of her doubts for him. She was going to support him through this, even if it was from a far.

The auburn haired woman bent down and brought pulled the basket into her house and then picking up the pink diaper bag that had Hannah sown on it with a deeper pink and throw it on her shoulder. She walked back into the sitting room to see that her own little girl hadn't moved a muscle.

"Cassidy," Anne called softly, placing the pink bag down on the table and captured the little girl's attention. "There's someone you should meet."

Cassidy glanced over her shoulder to see her Mom holding a little baby. Her eyebrows furrowed as she fumbled to get to her feet. She slowly walked over to her mother, who was now sitting down on the couch with the baby cradled in her arms. Cassidy's lips pursed together in thought as her four year old brain processed this vague information.

"Come meet your new baby sister," Anne informed her somewhat puzzled little girl and watched her face lit up immediately. Cassidy walked at quicker pace over to her mother and perched herself on the couch beside her, looking at the baby.

"What's her name, Mommy?" Cassidy asked, raising her gaze from the beautiful little girl to meet her mother's gaze.

"Hannah," Anne replied simply before her eyes drifted back to the baby cradled in her arms.

"She's so cute!" the four years old squealed. "Did the stork bring her?"

Anne chuckled lightly at her daughter's innocence. "I guess you could say that," she said softly, her gaze still on the new addition to their family as Cassidy started to make a fuss over Hannah. There really wasn't anything like a young girl making a fuss over how cute a baby was when they were nearly the same age.

The rest of the night was filled with excitement about Hannah, especially from Cassidy, who had waited four long years for a new arrival to their family.

When her husband, Frank and Cassidy went to bed, Anne was still in the sitting room looking down at the two year old girl in peace so she could hear her own thoughts. She was such a mixture of her father and mother. Anne couldn't decide, who she looked more like but if she had to pick she would have chosen her mother.

Anne knew these years to come would be hectic, so to prevent some of the chaos she would let Hannah grow up knowing that she was adopted but let he know that it didn't mean that she was less loved by them. Anne knew it would be easier this way. One of her friends was adopted and found out when she was sixteen when her and her mother were having an argument and her mother yelled, "You know, at times like these I thank God you're not my daughter," by accident. That's not the way someone should find out that they were adopted.

Hannah's green eyes gazed up at Anne. She knew that if she was anything like her father, Hannah would have great determination. Anne could recognize that glimmer in those green eyes anywhere and she knew Hannah's natural sense of leadership and determination along with standing up for what she believed was right, would get her in a lot of trouble along the years.

That was the only thing out of Anne's control . . .

A/N: I hoped you like that. I'm a bit worried about the year this story will be set in. I was thinking of setting it in the 70s mostly because there was no internet back then and it might make more sense. So if you could give me feedback on that, it would help a lot. Review and follow if you want me to continue!

Peace ✌~ Mystery Girl 911