A/N: So, surfing the internet for various H:LOTS sites (mostly for screencaps, but occasionally for other fics) turned up a challenge to write out a snapshot from the detectives' lives as children. Therefore, muse decided to pick up first with Kay Howard. I don't own H:LOTS, but you already knew that.

"She did it again, didn't she?"

"Go away, will you? I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, come on, Kay. You're really just gonna sit there and let her do it?"

"Nothing else to do. Leave it alone, huh? Let Carrie have her fun. She'll get tired of him sooner or later."

"Yeah, when he starts getting on her nerves and then you have to step in. Lot of good that's gonna do you."

This conversation, Kay Howard muses, at this point, is pointless. It is one that she and her brother have had many times before, and yet it never seems to do any good. At sixteen, she is the oldest of her parents' three children, and as far as she's ever known, this means that among the three of them, she is the one to shoulder most of the responsibility.

"Doesn't matter how much good it's gonna do me," she says finally. "Wasn't going to work anyway."

"You don't know that." Below her, twelve-year old Josh climbs halfway up the ladder to the old treehouse and shakes his head. "He's too old for Carrie, anyway. Dad's not gonna be happy if he finds out."

"He's not gonna find out if you don't say anything. Carrie knows what she's doing," Kay says, absently, and realizes too late what she's said when Josh laughs.

"Yeah, right," he says, shaking his head at Kay again. "If she knows what she's doing, then why does she always run to you?"

Because there isn't anyone else to run to anymore, Kay thinks, but doesn't say any of this out loud. It's true, though. There isn't anyone else to run to. Three years ago, there was their mother, but she is three years gone and buried, as much as it hurts to think about. Kay is the only one left, and she knows it.

"I'm her big sister," she says dryly after a moment. "Of course she's going to run to me. Not like she can tell Dad about her boy troubles."

Josh smirks at her. "Maybe if you had boy troubles, you'd be able to run to Carrie for a change," he says.

Kay rolls her eyes, wishing that he was close enough for her to push at with her foot, but of course, he isn't.

"Where is Carrie, anyway?" Josh continues, picking up where he'd left off. "I thought she was coming straight home with you."

"So did I," Kay mutters, and looks at her watch. "She was right behind me walking home. Probably ran into someone."

It goes without saying that Carrie did run into someone, and disappeared a few moments later. This doesn't come as a surprise at all, to either Josh or Kay, both of whom have learned to expect this from their sister, even if it is annoying.

"Think she'll be home before dinner?" Josh asks. Kay shrugs.

"I don't know," she replies. "She usually is." She casts a sideways look at her little brother and sighs. "How'd you know why I was sitting out here?"

"Because you hate this old treehouse," Josh tells her, as if this is perfectly obvious. “You only ever come up here when you know it’s no use.”

“No use what?”

“You know. Liking some guy and hoping he won’t notice Carrie.”

Her brother knows her too well. Whether or not this hurts as much as thinking about their mother, Kay isn’t sure, but then again, it isn’t something that she’s thought about all that often. She and Josh don’t usually have conversations like this, and when they do, it’s usually because of Carrie, like now.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Kay asks, wondering why she’s bothering to confide in a twelve-year-old who’s more likely to use her secrets to get out of doing chores than he is to keep them. “Hoping they’re not going to notice Carrie. I mean, who doesn’t notice her?”

“I don’t,” says Josh, in that way that always makes Kay want to laugh at him, but somehow, this time, she doesn’t. “I ignore her half the time. She gets on my nerves.”

Kay laughs, and reaches for his hands as he reaches the top of the ladder, pulling him into the treehouse with her.

“Yeah? What’d she do to you, huh?”

“Got me in trouble with Dad last night. You were on a run. Now I’ve got kitchen duty all week long.”

“All week?” A look of mock-horror crosses Kay’s face. “That sucks.”

Josh makes a face. “Yeah, it does,” he says. “And it’s not even my week, it’s yours, but Dad says if I can’t find anything better to do than tease Carrie, then he’ll give me stuff to do.”

“Well, there’s Dad for you. Tell you what, if you’ll dry the dishes, I’ll wash ‘em and put ‘em up.”

“Thanks, Kay.”

Silence falls between the two of them and then lingers. Kay leans back against the doorframe of the treehouse, even though she probably shouldn’t, and looks down towards the ground.

“You know, sometimes I think Carrie does it on purpose,” Josh remarks, peering over Kay’s shoulder. “Like she’s so used to having you all to herself that she doesn’t want to share you.”

“Well, she’s gotta share me with you and Dad, so where’s that coming from, huh?”

“Yeah, but we’re family. We don’t count. We’re gonna be a part of your life no matter what. I mean like another guy or something. Someone who’d take you away from us.”

“No one’s gonna take me away from you guys, kid. Maybe some day I might move out and go to Baltimore or somethin’, but you’ll always know where to find me.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

It’s probably true, Kay thinks, wryly. She’s spent her entire life in this place, close to the water, if not on it, and she’s not sure that she could leave, even if she wanted to. This place is familiar, and familiar, as far as she’s concerned, means safe.

The city of Baltimore is a few hours away from home, fast on its way to becoming the murder capital of the country, and a place that she doesn’t think about too often...except when she thinks about being a cop. She doesn’t remember when she decided that that was what she wanted to do with her life, but it happened a while ago, and she’s stuck with it.

“You’re gonna be a cop someday, huh, Kay?” Josh asks, breaking her out of her thoughts. She looks at him, a half-smile crossing her face.

“Planning on it,” she says. “Why? You wanna come with me?”

Josh shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “Someone’s gotta help Dad on the boat, y’know? I think that’s what I’ll do.”

She reaches back and musses his hair. He swats at her, and she laughs. “Oh, come on. Who’re you trying to impress?”

“Nobody,” says Josh, but from the way he’s blushing, Kay knows better, and she wonders why she never noticed her little brother had a crush on someone.

“You’re an awful liar,” she tells him. “Come on, who is it? Anyone I know?”

“No. She just moved here. But I’m not telling you her name.”

“I already know her name!” A voice drifts up loudly from below; Kay and Josh look down again to see Carrie standing at the foot of the tree they’re in, looking up as she continues. “You’ve got a lot of work to do if you think she’s gonna give you a second glance.”

Josh makes a face at her. “I do not. Go away, Carrie. I’m talking to Kay.”

“I need to talk to her now. Why don’t you go run along and find one of your friends?”

“Because they’re all doing their homework,” says Josh, and realizes too late that he’s given away that he hasn’t yet done his own. Kay shakes her head at him.

“Go on and do yours before Dad gets home,” she says, moving to allow him out of the treehouse. “Carrie, you gonna clime up here?”

“You’re joking, right?” Carrie asks, all fourteen-year-old attitude and not much else at the moment. “No way, Kay. You come down here.”

Kay rolls her eyes. “All right, all right,” she says, and follows Josh down the ladder. “I’m coming. What’d you do?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing, I just wanted to tell you about...” And she goes off on some long tale about this new guy she’s met (whom Kay has actually known for two years) and how he’s so amazing (Kay bites back a laugh at this, because he isn’t, really, but Carrie will learn this soon enough), and how she thinks he might be the one.

“Really?” says Kay, a fake smile crossing her face as she tries not to think about her own wounded heart and tries not to wonder how her own sister could be the one behind it. “That’s great, Carrie. I hope it works out for you.”

Carrie grins, and turns to hug her. “Thanks, Kay.”

And then she skips off, leaving Kay standing there in the middle of their back yard, staring after her for a moment before going inside to make sure Josh is actually doing his homework before going into the kitchen to decide what she’s going to make for dinner this time.

She doesn’t get very far before a loud shriek comes from outside; sighing, she goes to investigate, only to find that Josh went into the house only to sneak right out the front door in order to throw a water balloon at Carrie.

“Kay, if I kill him, will you tell?” Carrie demands, running past her into the house after Josh, who’s laughing and looking completely unrepentant.

“You’re not going to kill him,” Kay replies, tiredly, turning to chase after them to make sure that this doesn’t actually happen. “Josh, seriously, go upstairs and do your homework. Carrie, you stay down here and help me.”

She catches Josh as she says this, and holds her other arm out to catch Carrie before she can reach their little brother. Josh ducks under her arm to make a face at Carrie; Carrie makes a face back at him, and Kay pushes him firmly towards the stairs.

“Move, now,” she says, wondering how their mother did it, and deciding then and there that she doesn’t really want to find out. “Carrie, to the kitchen.”

And as Josh walks upstairs to do his homework, Carrie follows Kay into the kitchen, chattering away once again.

Kay listens, half-heartedly, almost wishing that she were as carefree as her siblings, but at the same time knowing that she can’t be.

There’s too much to do, too many things to worry about. Her wounded heart has already started to mend, knowing this, knowing that there will be other days, and other guys, and Carrie, still the same, right along with it.

“You don’t mind, do you, Kay?” Carrie asks, finally, bringing Kay back out of her thoughts and to the present. “I mean, I heard you liked him, but I wasn’t sure...”

“No, it’s fine,” says Kay. “I didn’t like him. Not like that, anyway. We’re just friends. You just...make sure you keep your eyes open, all right?”

Carrie nods, happy as a clam now that she knows she has her sister’s approval. “I will,” she says, and then again, “Thanks, Kay.”

Thanks, Kay. It amazes her how much that can mean to her at some times, and how little it can mean to her at others. She has become the one that her siblings lean on, but she isn’t really sure why this is, or even if she likes it.

There isn’t really a choice, though. With their father working, and their mother gone, there isn’t really anyone else for them to lean on besides her.

So when homework is done and dinner is on the table and Josh and Carrie are for once getting along, even if it is only under their father’s eye, she says nothing, choosing instead to listen to the conversation at hand, trying not to think about her own troubles, because there’s so much else to worry about.

Her father’s hand on her shoulder makes her jump, and when she looks at him, she isn’t surprised to hear it all over again.

“Thanks, Kay.”