Date began: August 19, 2006

Date finished:

Dedication: For Elle

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to the writer. They remain property of Channel 7 and Southern Star.

Song credits: Eminem, The Dixie Chicks, U2, Destiny's Child, Tracy Chapman, Howie Day, Robbie Williams, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey

"Be kinder than necessary, because everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle."

Grab: Time changes people. What happens when you're forced to go back to that time and that place and see the person you've since become? What happens when you've changed so much you don't recognise yourself? What happens to fallen soldiers? Soldiers that once stood so tall in the face of adversity?

Tall Soldiers

Step by step, heart to heart, left right left
We all fall down...

Chapter 1 Make Believing

"You can't say no to the invitation Amy," he said into the phone. At the other end she rolled her eyes and then cast them over the mountains of paperwork that surrounded her.

"Why not?" she sighed, trying not to sound rude.

"Because I just won't take no for an answer," she could hear him chuckling at the other end of the phone line. He suddenly became serious though, as suddenly as the phone had rung in her office just moments before, interrupting the relative silence of the third floor of Homicide late on a Friday afternoon. "Seriously Amy, just come," he was almost pleading. It made her think back to Mt Thomas, and how life had been then – when you could just knock on someone's office door to talk to them instead of phoning being your only chance to make contact, even though you worked in the same building. A part of Amy did want to go back. "Please?" not often did Evan Jones sound desperate but he did right then. "You don't have plans do you?" As soon as the words left his mouth and entered her ear, Amy knew he sure didn't have plans for the upcoming Christmas break.

She couldn't lie. Not to an old friend. Not to a colleague she had respected and admired so much and then ashamedly lost almost all contact with the moment they both moved to Homicide. She had previously blamed this on the fact that Homicide was just such a different world – a world so very different from Mt Thomas and a world one could easily get lost in. But really, it was no one's fault but her own. "Nah, I don't have any plans." Maybe it will be good to get away, she thought to herself.

"Good," he seemed so pleased – maybe he was ashamed at getting swallowed up by the Homicide monster so easily as well. "I'll see you there then."

Amy nodded and smiled into the phone. "Yep…see you there," she said goodbye with a wistful tone in her voice. Mt Thomas hey? Ha, didn't think she'd go back there so soon. Just three years away from the place and so much had changed. Going back would be quite an experience. But like she'd said to Evan…she didn't have any plans. So it was better than sitting at home on the couch at 3 o'clock on Christmas day watching a repeat of the carols by candlelight and eating two minute noodles.

Evan placed the phone back into its cradle and leaned back in his chair, his hands linked behind his head. He was going to go back to Mt Thomas for Christmas. And Amy was going to come too. They worked in the same bloody building, but barely saw each other. They were lucky if they saw each other in the line at the canteen once a month. It was almost scary what a big, bustling place Homicide was. Evan had quickly learnt why detectives from Homicide always looked so happy upon retirement. The job was never going to top the list of great jobs to have.

But he and Amy were addicted. It was in her blood as much as it was in his. What could he say? He was born to be a cop. He remembered back to his Mt Thomas days and the slow and painstaking move up from probationary constable to suited up detective. He was Amy's sidekick then – a role he hated and she revelled in. But it got him where he was today so he never complained. In police terms Homicide was the ultimate accomplishment. Like the Olympics were for an athlete. Or a perfect university entrance score was for a kid straight out of highschool. So he was stoked to get his position. Albiet a little afraid and feeling like he was way out of his depth, but still stoked. He and Amy got to Homicide that first day and Amy was shown to her office on the third floor and he on the first. That was the beginning of the end. Perhaps also the beginning of his very own demise.

Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win
But the battle wages on for toy soldiers

Homicide was every man for himself. It wasn't what Evan Jones was used to. He'd worked as part of a brilliant team, and then closely with a great partner for a good half a decade. Homicide could not have been more different. It took a lot of adjusting. He thought often of his former partner on the third floor and how she was going. No doubt she had a steady handle on it all, as she always did with everything, he thought to himself.

It was hard to get used to. A sudden move. No friends around. A new position. A prestige squad. Sometimes he wasn't sure he could handle it. He didn't feel the same level of confidence in himself that he used to feel in Mt Thomas. It'd been like that for three years now. Wading through each day, every day getting a little longer and his body going a little slower. Even his mind ticked over slower. He often wondered if he had outgrown the job already. Perhaps he was in his prime in Mt Thomas, as just a uniform. Not a good look really, when he should've been reaching his peak as a detective in Homicide and growing old there like all the other guys did. Homicide was supposed to be the peak of ones career, not the downfall. The statistics showed the average leaver of Homicide was the ripe old age of 55. He still had a good 20 years to go then. So why had he lost his passion for the job?

He left almost everything he'd ever known behind when he came to Homicide. It was a small comfort to have Amy so close by, because she was all he bought with him, so to speak. Everything else was new and different and more difficult. The stakes were much, much higher. Not only that, but every crime was bigger, more gruesome and stayed with him for much longer than any crime ever did back in the sticks. He almost choked one morning upon waking up in his second year on the job. Back from his first Christmas break in Melbourne, he wondered if he could face another year of bizarre murders and broken families. Of horrific rapes and underworld gangs. It was hard to get out of bed that day.

But he did, eventually. And arrived just 10 minutes late for his shift. And no one even realised. Didn't really help the way he felt. Just reconfirmed what a team dynamic Homicide lacked and Mt Thomas boasted so proudly. And by the third year in Homicide he was seriously wondering what on earth he was still doing there, wearing stale suits and eating far too much take away food.

But then Alex had called. Lucky bugger was still in Mt Thomas. He'd never left when the rest of them had – last person Evan expected to stay. But he did, and married a local girl just 18 months later. Alex reasoned that 18 months was a long time, but Evan thought it felt so rushed. But he'd gone back for his mate, met the fiancee, gone to the wedding, and wished them good luck in their new life together. As rushed as it felt to Evan, at least Alex had married and did have someone in his life. More than he could say for himself.

"Come on Jonesy," Alex had pleaded, sounding a lot more laid back and stress free than everyone else around Evan seemed to be. "You know you can get a few days off…just a few days!" Alex was right, he could wrangle it, easy. Not like anyone would notice he was gone anyway. "Chris is reserving half the place for us…" he stated. "…you can't let her down mate!" Evan was beginning to give in. Mt Thomas for Christmas hey? Would be a nice change.

"Who else is coming?" he asked quietly.

Alex did his best to convince. "Oh everyone! Everyone!" That was what did it. Evan Jones promised to be in Mt Thomas by December 22. Alex hung up the phone, proud that he had managed to convince his old mate to pull himself away from the big wigs in the city for a couple of days.

"I don't even know these people Alex!" she whined annoyingly, throwing her hands up over her head as she tossed the pillows onto the floor and began peeling back the sheets and blankets. Alex stood opposite her and put his hands on his hips.

"They're my friends," he whispered, disbelieving and hurt she could be so unfriendly.

"Yeah!" she replied. "They're you're friends, not mine. I don't know them at all," she looked pointedly at him as she climbed into bed, sitting up against the head board.

"You're saying it like you've never laid eyes on them Rhi," he remained by the side of the bed, still a little hurt. "You met them at the wedding…remember?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

She folded her arms across her chest and shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to say anymore. That was how their fights always ended. Rhiannon could turn off as quickly as the water changes from hot to cold when you're the last one to use the shower. It bugged Alex, but he'd tried before to resolve their fights, and never had much luck. So he got into bed, reached over and turned off the lamp and burrowed under the covers. On the other side of the bed Rhiannon did the same, and they slept, facing away from each other, the crazy love struck feeling that had engulfed them both just 18 months ago when they'd married all but gone.

Alex closed his eyes and tried to put it out of his mind. But it wouldn't go away. Memories of the workmates he'd gotten on with so well raced through his mind and despite just having a row with his wife, the woman he was supposed to be happy with, he perked up somewhat at the thought that they'd all be down for Christmas. It'd be just like old times. He needed to see them. It was the only thing that felt right.