The girl stepped into the house carefully, as if she expected the floor to be rigged with landmines. Her intelligent brown eyes scanning the hall, a small smile appeared on her face as if this dump was one of the better houses that she had stayed at, then she shrugged her shoulders and fixed her analytical gaze on Tyler instead. He had the distinct impression that he was being x-rayed, it was quite unsettling so instead – never one to back down he took to giving her a once over. Her skin was fairly tan; her long brown hair looked stringy and unkempt, shoved into a miserable ponytail and brushed forward into straggly bangs. Too thin. The edge of a purplish bruise peeked out from the sleeve of her second hand T-shirt. No prizes for guessing why she was taken away from her last home.

Once he'd tuned into what the social worker was saying in her dreary, monotonous voice he learned that: Her name was Camille Gage, she was nine years old, she came into foster care when she was six, this is her seventh home, her Dad is in jail and her Mom is dead, no-one's really shown her much affection over the years. That was an understatement. Five minutes later Lena tried to give her a 'welcome to the madhouse' hug and Camille jumped away like she'd been burned. He'd never really felt much of a connection to his foster siblings before, just stayed out of the way. The closest he had to family had always been his Mom's old best friend and her daughter Andie. Looking at the disheartened girl standing just inside the doorway all he could think was 'god a nine year old girl should not be looking at the world like that'. Then this brought up feelings of how a fifteen year old boy shouldn't be feeling like this and he'd been storing those feelings away since the car accident. Like it or not he cared about Camille Gage, and it scared the hell outta him.

- Nine Years Later-

He wished that he could be there to see her off (especially as he guessed neither Lena nor Bill would grace New York with an appearance) but he had a demanding schedule. She understood - Moose's folks are bringing them both down there. After he'd cast his (in his opinion absolutely terrifying) 'don't you dare try anything' gaze on an over-excited Moose, he'd engulfed his sisters still small- but not scarily so, frame in a hug and remembered the day that he met her. Then her hair was limp, she was bone thin and flinched every time someone raised their hand. Still a smart mouth though. He still remembered their first conversation…

"Why is your head shaved?" Tyler was startled at the blunt question, not even noticing Camille come into the room.

"Cause it is, now get out"

"But why though, there's a reason for everything"

"Why do you have that bruise then?" Tyler regretted the words the moment he said them. He'd never been abused personally but dreaded to think what it was like. He'd expected her to go all teary eyed and reply 'I was naughty' in a creepy monotone voice but instead she looked thoughtful. Carefully reasoning the question then evaluating a response, before coming out with the most unlikely sentence to come out of her mouth.

"Because my old foster dad was an asshole"

His laughter echoed throughout the house.

He was proud of her and everything but Tyler still didn't see why she had to completely give up dance. The girl is damn good; also dance saved them both from heading down the predisposed path for poor, messed up, foster kids. Without dance he'd be either in jail, a bum or dead. As would she, dance saved them both and she's willing to give it all up? Her and Moose could go pro if they wanted to, it's the biggest reason that he's glad she's going with Moose, he'll drag her back into dancing whether she wants to or not.

He looked over his little sister, where are the pigtails and too big sweats? Replaced by chestnut, rib-tickling hair and skinny jeans. She and Moose's Nikes almost matched, same style, similar colour scheme. The innocent, huge mid-tone brown eyes lined with a little black eyeliner. The little girl from the ghettos has turned into a young woman heading for NYU.

He held his little sister in his arms, the familiar scent of cinnamon invading his senses and crushing her body to his. He didn't want to let go.

Like it or not Camille Gage had grown up, and it scared the hell outta him.

I love sibling stuff! Not enough on the relationship between Camille and Tyler on this site.