Warning: This fic contains mentions of death and suicide.


Once upon a time there was a man who was a soldier.

The world laughs at the soldier.

The soldier avoids the world.


Once upon a time a policeman stood on a roof where two men had died.

One gun, one fall.

The policeman is looking for evidence.

He doesn't expect any.

He finds some anyway.

A phone.


Once upon a time the policeman listened to a recording.

The last conversation the two dead men had.

This is not the evidence his bosses want.


Once upon a time the policeman rang his friend the soldier.

The soldier knows what the evidence means.

'We can prove them wrong,' he says.

The policeman hopes so.


Once upon a time there was a journalist.

She didn't let the truth get in the way of a good story.

She laughed at the soldier once.

The soldier and the policeman are not amused.

Neither is the rest of the world, when they find out.


I believe in Sherlock Holmes

Moriarty Was REAL


Once upon a time the soldier was catching a train.

He sees someone he never expected to see again.

A visit to the British Government is in order.


This fic was inspired by a post on Tumblr that I'll link to when it's finished otherwise it'll spoil the story

The title is from the song "Better Be Home Soon" by Crowded House. Don't listen to it if you're trying to get rid of your Johnlock feels.