Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Warning: This chapter will contain war themes, violence, description of death and blood.

The Part 1 to this was posted earlier today. I decided to split them up because otherwise it would have been about 9,000 words

Night soon came, ending their first week at this place, they hadn't heard word from England since they left the training camps, so it looked like they would be staying around for a while. Australia stumbled through the scrub, the terrain was unfamiliar to him and the blackened sky wasn't helpful with navigating through the unlevel ground. He had almost tripped over a few times in the holes left by the bombardment of shells.

He was by himself, while he would admit that it probably wasn't the best thing to do, especially at night. But he just really needed to get some fresh air. The trenches were filled with the scent of gun powder, blood and death. An all real reminder that his people were dying and all he could do was mourn and carry on fighting. He couldn't slow down for a moment because if he did then it could cost the lives of even more of his people. And hearing their screams and pleas were torture to him, he was their nation yet he had to hear them suffering without doing anything but continue to fight beside them.

He had just returned from a trench raid, while it had been successful, it had come at a deadly cost. He had only returned with half the amount of people he had left with. He hated trench raids the most. They were done at the dead of night, so it was hard to see where you were going and who you were shooting at, if you weren't careful, you could shoot one of your own purely by accident.

But the worst was having to kill the man in front of you, sometimes the human would plead and beg for his life, and sometimes they would try to attack and shoot you first. That was something Australia couldn't handle. No matter how much he had tried to clean his hands, he could still see the blood on them. He knew New Zealand was fairing no better, he could hear his younger brother cry himself to sleep some nights, so he would push away his own feelings to try and comfort his younger brother. He would try to get the Kiwi's mind off all the pain and suffering and talk about something happier, something to take their minds off the pain they would feel. From the amount of pain he and his brother had felt from the very moment they had touched that godforsaken beach, it was a wonder how they could still move.

No doubt Turkey also felt the pain of his own as well. Australia wondered how the Turkish nation was fairing. Was he in just as much pain as them? Could he handle it better than them due to his experience?

While Australia continued his aimless walking, he froze when he heard the muffled footsteps behind him. He snapped his head in the direction of the noise, his shoulders went taught and stiff. It may have just been one of his or his brother's people who may have gone looking for him. His hand inched ever so slightly towards the bayonet of his rifle. He had emptied his supply of bullets during the trench raid, so it rendered his main weapon useless. Not his smartest moment he will openly admit. It was like knowingly thrashing around in a croc infested billabong, not a really good idea and normally lead to something bad.

His heart dropped into his stomach as he tensed, a feeling of dread ran down his spine making the hair on the back of his next stand up. He mentally swore a string of curses. He felt a nation's presence close by, and it wasn't New Zealand.

His feet felt weighted down as he stood rooted to the spot. Maybe, if he didn't move or make a sound Turkey would leave. But as soon as that thought entered his mind he shook it away. If he could sense the Ottoman Empire, then he could just as easily sense Australia.

The Aussie nation held his breath, scared to even make the slightest sound. He slowly started to move his feet, he needed to get out of there now.

He started to back away towards the direction of his trench. It was like backing away from an angry crocodile…except he never did back away from a pissed off croc, he normally dived straight in. But for once, he thought that the reckless way wouldn't do him any good. At least England would be proud of that. If you disregard the fact that he went out alone and kinda weapon less in the first place.

"Going Somewhere Avustralya?" A thick accented voice spoke from behind him.

Australia's jaw clenched, and he muttered out a low curse. Of bloody course Turkey would appear right behind him. It's like the most cliched thing to happen at that moment.

He spun around, and the personification of Turkey came into view. The Ottoman Empire completely towered over him and doubled him in muscle strength, a sense of dread loomed over the Australian. While Australia couldn't read the emotions in Turkey's eyes because the mask he was wearing concealed most of that, but he could tell that the personification looked pale and fatigued. Australia summed it up to the pain of Turkey feeling his people's death. A cold smile on his face made Australia's blood freeze up.

He had never met the personification face-to-face before, he had only ever caught glimpses during battles. He heard some of the stories from his people that they had encountered a masked man, with so much power radiating off him that the pure intimidation had made their blood run cold. Australia now saw why.

"Surely you know better than to be out on your own," Turkey stepped forward and Australia stepped back immediately, he wanted to keep some distance between them if things went south. "Unless your brother is waiting to ambush me? But I cannot feel his presence, so I highly doubt that"

Australia didn't say anything as he opted for figuring a way out. If it came down to a fight, it would be hand-to-hand, and while Australia faired pretty well against humans, he still didn't do so well against other nations, their attempts in training could attest to that.

"So pathetic," Turkey commented, his gaze travelled down to Australia's empty rifle, "Both young, practically toddlers in our years. It's a wonder how England let you run around in this war, especially with unloaded guns."

"Germany's younger than us," Australia finally spoke with a scowl on his face at being called a child, "Yet he's fighting and no one else comments on his age"

"But he has years of experience. A word of advice Avustralya, give up. You and Yeni Zelanda wouldn't stand a chance on the front line, if you even make it that far"

Australia narrowed his eyes into a glare at the insult. He stood a little straighter and squared his shoulders, something that England did all the time when he wanted to exert authority. He knew what Turkey said was true, they didn't have experience. It was their first battle, so they knew they were likely to be perceived as children by the others, it didn't make it hurt any less though. He and Zea wanted to prove them wrong. They could be just as strong as the rest of them. Their people were determined and brave. And their personifications were just that, if not terribly stubborn, so they wouldn't give up that easily.

He watched as Turkey detached the bayonet from his gun and then threw his rifle to the side. A flicker of nervousness flashed in Australia's eyes, it looked like Turkey wanted to fight. At least the older nation kept it somewhat fair in the sense that he wouldn't use his rifle.

"You really shouldn't underestimate us mate," Australia replied in, what he hoped was, a confident voice, "But it still doesn't change the fact that I'm gonna send ya running back like a scared little joey"

Australia's fingers curled around the handle of his bayonet, his empty rifle lay abandoned on the ground, it wouldn't be of any help. He tried to remember back to what their hand-to-hand combat training had explained. He remembered what his dad had said word for word.

'Know your opponent. It will be easy to fight and defend yourself if you are familiar with their moves and techniques that they will use'

Scratch that one, he only just met Turkey today. Next.

'If you don't know your opponent, which I doubt you two will, look into their eyes. You can predict their moves by the way their eyes will shift and look around, you can defend yourself this way'

That still doesn't help. Next.

'If these don't work then you shouldn't engage. The enemy will have the upper hand, and you two shouldn't be in a position to bloody take on another personification in hand-to-hand combat in the first place!'

"Bloody brilliant" Australia muttered to himself under his breath, looks like he is on his own.

Turkey assessed the young nation in front of him. A nation, newly out of colony stage was ready to take on an Empire one on one, and to appear confident about it even if the fear the young nation tried to keep hidden had poked through his eyes. Turkey had to admit, the kid had courage, either that or idiocy.

Australia watched as Turkey advanced on him, by watching Turkey's foot patterns to see where the older nation would step he was able to only just dodge in time. Just enough to see the air of where he used to be standing slashed. The steel cut through the air with a sickening swish. Turkey's attacks kept coming, he was always on the offensive and never the defensive. Yet he hardly seemed to be running out of energy. Whereas, Australia could barely keep up with the older nation, as Australia had just come back from a trench raid which had drained most of his stamina and energy. He even had a couple of close calls with the weapon, as sometimes it would only miss by a mere few centimetres.

Australia kept having to tear his eyes away from his opponent to glance at the ground, it put him at a disadvantage. But if he tripped or lost his footing it would give Turkey an opening he couldn't afford to give. Turkey knew where to step and where to avoid, he moved gracefully and sturdy during his advances. His centuries worth of experience combined with the knowledge of the area, the advantage of his home turf, had tipped the scales into his favour and he could continue fighting for longer. And Australia knew this.

Australia ducked low to avoid a swing that was aimed at his head. He saw that Turkey had seemingly lost his balance, leaving his right side exposed and not defended. Australia had assumed that it was a miscalculated step on Turkey's part, as the area they were in was ridden with the holes left from the shell explosions. This small error would give Australia an opening to launch his first attack. He raised his own bayonet to administer his attack to try and at least gain some ground in their seemingly endless battle.

But Turkey grabbed his wrist tightly in mid-air preventing such attack. It was that moment, with fear that Australia noticed his critical mistake. He realised that Turkey had led him into a false sense of security, he let the younger nation think he had been given the upper hand. It was because of Australia's lack of attentiveness that now gave Turkey the advantage. And it made Australia powerless to defend himself, it left him open and exposed.

Turkey landed a swift yet powerful punch to Australia's stomach. The force of which left Australia doubled over in pain as the air was knocked out of him. As well as his weapon. He had lost the grip he had on his bayonet, it had fallen from the hand that Turkey still had a hold of. Australia coughed and gasped as he tried to regain his breathing back to normal.

Australia watched helplessly as his weapon was kicked away and he was thrown to the rocky ground, landing on his back hard. Australia yelped in pain, as when he landed he made impact with a not so forgiving surface. The stones would surely leave bruises on his skin, but at the moment he really couldn't care about that.

Turkey wasn't holding back, he seemed to be able to push past the pain he was feeling to continue to fight without faltering, something that seemed to only come from experience. Canada was never this hard to combat against during training, and he knew that if he and his brother couldn't defeat Canada, then Australia's battle with Turkey looked grim.

Australia's eyes widened as he looked up just in time to see Turkey's bayonet come down over him. He rolled to the side, something years of dodging croc attacks taught him, just in time to see the blade imbedded half an inch into the ground where he lay only mere seconds ago. His stomach clenched and he let out a shaky breath, he felt a wave of nausea within him at the fact that if he were only a second later, it would have been game over with a bayonet to the chest.

"I have to admit, you are quick on your feet, but your attentiveness is sloppy," Turkey stated as he pulled his weapon out of the ground.

At the same time Australia stood back on his feet. He was unarmed but if he could dodge the next attacks then maybe he'd find another opening, so he could retrieve his weapon again.

It was that exact moment that an ear-shattering explosion from a shell tore him from his concentration. The explosion was over near the trenches, were he knew the New Zealanders were stationed, concern for his brother washed over him. His eyes had glanced away for only a wisp of a second.

But that was all it took.

For that breath of a second Turkey swung his weapon aiming for Australia's face. Australia had turned his gaze back around, just in time to see the blade coming for him. He didn't have time to dodge.

Australia cried out in pain as he felt the steel slice open the skin across his nose.

White, hot, blinding pain was the only thing he felt with every fibre of his being.

He screamed. Australia fell to his knees, one hand clutching his bleeding nose, the other shakily gripping the gravelly ground to try and keep himself upright. Tears sprang in his scared and pained green eyes. The injury on his nose hurt so bad, it was next to agonising as it throbbed and stung. Australia had been cut before whenever he fell or was cooking and it normally only hurt for a second or two. But this one, this one burned. It was like his nose had just came into contact with a flame, a burning hot and deadly flame. Blood had gushed out of the wound, making the only thing he could smell was metal.

He never felt pain like this before, when the steel had came into contact with his skin it had felt burning hot, like he had just been touched with a branding iron.

Too focused on the searing pain of his injury, he didn't see Turkey approach him. He had only felt the swift kick to his ribs, it had sent him once again to the ground. His now blood covered hand had fallen away from his nose, revealing the scar that now bared.

Australia now lay crumpled on his side, panting and still whimpering from the pain coming from his nose. His green eyes no longer hid the fear that he had felt, it was on full display for Turkey to see. It had been a very long time since Australia had felt so small and terrified. Was he actually going to die? He knew England said they couldn't, but if that was the pain he had felt from a cut on his nose, then what would it feel like for a fatal stab to the chest?

"I told you, you wouldn't stand a chance. You are still young, a child that has no place in war" Turkey sneered as he loomed over Australia.

Australia winced, he tried to get up to move but his exhaustion and the pain made his efforts in vain. He would be damned if he stayed here to face a fate that he didn't want. He felt his hand brush against a cold metal object. His eyes flickered in the direction of the object, it wasn't his bayonet like he had hoped, but it was his empty rifle that he had discarded to the side earlier in the fight.

He saw Turkey once again raise his bayonet. Australia's mind went back to his gun that lay near him.

Without even having time to process what he was about to do, adrenaline surged through his veins and he felt the spark of determination return into his body. He stretched out his hands to grip his rifle and held it sideways, in front of his body. He did it just in time for Turkey's bayonet to collide with it.

Australia's arms shook from the pressure that Turkey was placing down on the rifle, he had to do something else quickly or otherwise he wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. He summoned the little strength he had left, he brought his two legs up and kicked Turkey in the stomach, just like a kangaroo does to attack predators. The force of the kick sent Turkey to the ground, his bayonet falling beside him.

Seeing an opening, one that he most likely wouldn't get again, Australia scrambled onto his feet. He still had his gun in his grasp as he turned away and fled the scene.

He practically sprinted his way back to the safety of the Anzac trenches. He had never run from and abandoned a fight before, but he knew that if he had stayed there, he would fail. It was by some miracle that he had managed to get away at all.

As soon as he reached the trench he jumped down into it. He finally relaxed when he saw the familiar scenery, never in his life did he think he would ever be glad to be in the trench. He let out a heavy sigh as he lent against the dirt wall, the dirt and dust plastered to his sweaty skin, making it sticky as honey. He panted, his chest heaving shakily from every breath. His heart pounded loudly as the adrenaline he had felt before still lingered. But the throbbing and burning sensation of the scar on his nose hadn't left. His legs felt heavy as they gave out from under him, allowing himself to slide down the side of the trench in a sitting position. He placed his rifle down next to him, if he was in a better mood he would have laughed, never in a million years had he thought that after fearing the destruction that a gun had caused, would he have used it to save his life.

Australia ran a hand over his face to steady his emotions, they were all a jumble of fear, relief and pain. He didn't care that his blood had smeared with the dirt and the sweat on his face. He was so happy that he had got away alive that he couldn't care less about something so trivial as his blood on him.

He closed his eyes as he leant his head back, resting it against the solid dirt wall, he was so tired. What he wouldn't give to be back home sleeping in his own bed without having to worry about being shot at every ten minutes. He never wanted to experience hand-to-hand combat with another nation ever again. Humans were one thing, but the personifications had centuries worth of experience.

"Oi mate!" Australia heard the call of a fellow Australian digger.

Australia opened his eyes and moved his head to the side to see the Australian soldier call to him, two of his New Zealander friends were standing beside him.

"You alright? That's a pretty nasty scar. You look like you've just seen death,"

Australia, humourlessly chuckled, "Something like that. Now worries, I'll come good"

It was that moment that Australia remembered something.

"You seen my brother? He's kiwi, brown hair, green eyes and looks like a sheep"

The three soldiers suddenly looked very uneasy. Australia felt his heart start to race again at their hesitation.

"You mean you don't know?" One of the New Zealander's asked.

"Know what?" Australia had an edge in his tone. He didn't like where this was going. His brotherly instincts kicked in, if his brother was in some kind of danger he needed to be there to help him. They promised to have each other's backs.

"One of the divisions went over the top, a surprise trench raid on the Turks you know?" The Australian digger explained, "But when that shell dropped, it wiped most of them out. A young soldier, fitting the description you described went over by himself to look for any survivors."

"We tried to get a couple guys out their looking for him, the enemy fire is too intense, and we don't know where to start looking" The other New Zealander finished.

Australia stood back up on his feet and looked out over the top of the trench. He saw the horrific sight of yet another bloody battle, one that New Zealand was probably caught in.

"Damnit Zea," Australia whispered under his breath. First it was his confrontation with Turkey, and now his brother was missing, what else could go wrong?

He turned away from the scene and back to the three soldiers.

"Do you have any spare bullets?"

They looked at him like he'd gone mad.

"You can't go up there! That's pure suicide" they protested.

"He's my little brother, you'd do it for yours wouldn't you?" Australia asked while raising a thick eyebrow.

The Australian man didn't say anything until he handed Australia the spare ammunition.

"Just be careful up there yeah?" The man said as Australia loaded them into his rifle.

"Have you met me? I'm the definition of careful" Australia smiled reassuringly.

Australia turned back to the top of the trench. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, normally he would freeze up at a time like this it happened in the rebellion and with Ned Kelly, but he knew he couldn't afford to this time. He had to go and help his brother. He tightened his hands into fists and he opened his eyes, a light with determination.

He pulled himself up and over the top, away from the safety and coverage of the trench. He was now out in the open and once again exposed to the enemy. Australia began to run into the middle of the field, the cover of the night was really the only thing that worked in his favour by hiding his presence. Yet is also proved in making things difficult to see, so he had to settle for trying to sense his brother's presence. A nation could sense for the presence of another nation, it came helpful in times like this as it gave him a vague idea of where the other was.

He felt the presence tug him in the direction to the left of him. The place where the fighting and killing was at its peak. It was where most of the shelling happened and the place that they had spotted Turkey hanging around very often.

Australia's heart practically stopped at the thought of New Zealand going hand-to-hand with Turkey as well, it would most likely end up the same way it did with Australia.

Australia ran into the midst of the heavy onslaught, not hesitating for a moment. He tried to dodge as shrapnel flew overhead and both sides of him. He would have to drop to the ground for cover every time a hell would explode around him, making even more holes in already uneven ground. Australia skidded to a stop when he had finally caught a glimpse of New Zealand. He was trying to fight off a Turkish soldier, who was quickly overpowering the nation.

Australia raced over and as soon as he was within range he had fired a shot and the Turkish soldier fell to the ground with a cry.

New Zealand panted and looked over in fear in the direction of which the bullet came from. But he relaxed and sighed in relief when he saw it was only Australia. Australia jogged the rest of the way to stand near his brother.

"Thanks bro! I owe you one," New Zealand smiled. His pained eyes seemed to narrow in on the injury on Australia's nose. Before he could ask what happened Australia spoke.

"Are you okay?" Australia asked as he noticed blood coming from New Zealand's arm.

"I got shot, the bullet's still in there but I'll be fine once it's out. What happened to you-"

New Zealand never got the chance to finish. When he was explaining what happened to his arm Australia had seen movement out of the corner of his eye. He recognised what was going to happen, after days of seeing it happen first hand, it was enough to know what was about to take place.

He had pushed New Zealand out of the way, he landed on the ground. He was safe. Australia on the other hand, had felt pain explode from where the bullets had landed in his side.

New Zealand looked on in horror as his brother fell to the ground, his legs were unable to support him as blood started to gush out of the fresh wounds. New Zealand rushed to pick up Australia's rifle to shoot their attacker with his good arm. He didn't care that the man fell to the ground with a scream, the young nation scrambled to his big brother's side. He gently rolled Australia over, so he could see his face.

Australia groaned and whimpered in pain, his new injury screaming in protest at the movement. He coughed up blood, the metallic and coppery taste made him feel sick.

"Aus! Are you okay?! Talk to me bro!" New Zealand panicked.

His eyes frantically darted between the bullet wounds and the blood that Australia is coughing up. That wasn't a good sign, it meant internal bleeding which basically meant the bullets must have hit a vital organ.

"I-I didn't freeze" Australia stuttered out through his clenched jaw. His vision started to go hazy as he struggled to focus on New Zealand's face above him.

New Zealand noticed that Australia's eyes looked distant for a moment, like he was remembering something from the past. He didn't know what his brother was talking about, he chalked it up to the effects of the blood loss. The amount of blood that Australia was losing was something a human wouldn't survive much longer from.

But nations couldn't die. England had told them that they couldn't die. But then why could he feel his brother's weakening pulse? Tears filled New Zealand's eyes as he tried to put pressure on the bullet wounds.

"M' tired" Australia's words slurred together. He was struggling to remain conscious. His body was overridden with fatigue, his eye lids felt like lead weights as the adrenaline that he had was quickly draining away, leaving only pure exhaustion in its wake.

"What? No, No stay awake Aus! Come on you need to stay awake. I can't carry you back myself!"

Tears began to fall from New Zealand's eyes, leaving streaks on his dirt covered face. He didn't know what to do. His brother was dying and needed medical attention, they were still in the middle of a battle field and his arm was injured, he wouldn't be able to get them out by himself. New Zealand wished that their dad was here, he would know what to do.

"I'm sorry Zea I'm too tired" Australia mumbled, his breathing began to slow.

"N-No Aus please!" New Zealand protested hysterically as he tried to speak through the flood of tears that didn't seem to stop, "D-Do you remember when we were kids and I first arrived at dad's house? During that storm you promised that you wouldn't go anywhere. You can't leave me by myself Aus! Please I can't do this without you, it was supposed to me and you until the end right, partners in crime and all that remember? Please don't die!"

But his cries fell on deaf ears as black spots started to cloud Australia's vision. He felt himself start to lose the battle he had on staying awake. His eyes fell shut as a final breath of air escaped past his lips. He couldn't hear the anguished and painfilled cries and pleading from his brother.

…I am so sorry with the feels in this chapter. I promise that the next one won't be so heavy on the angst. Even I was crying while writing the end scene. I tell ya, these war chapters are mentally and physically draining to write, and it's only just started XD. But I would love to hear any constructive criticism because this and the previous chapter are really my first times doing action scenes like this, so any tips on improvement will be very much appreciated!

Avustralya – Australia (Turkish)

Yeni Zelanda – New Zealand (Turkish)

I have a headcannon that the reason that Australia wears the band-aid over his nose is to hide a scar left by Turkey from Gallipoli. And if you can recall in the author's notes in chapter 9 (it's been a while so I don't blame you if you can't remember XD) but during New Zealand's first night in England he was scared of a thunderstorm and Australia basically said that he would always be there for New Zealand and that he wasn't going anywhere.

But at least Australia didn't freeze! When he knew that New Zealand was in trouble he managed to push past his old fears in order to protect him.

So anyway, Will Australia survive? (I think it's pretty obvious by the story summary XD). Will New Zealand be able to get his brother to safety with his own injury? Will New Zealand tell England about what happened with Australia? What else will the universe have in store for Australia during ww1?

Until next week my friends! :D