Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia
Warning: This chapter will contain war themes, violence, description of death and blood.
All he saw was darkness, it was all around him. It was like he was just standing in a pure pit of emptiness and he couldn't see any light or brightness in the swirl of shadows that engulfed everything in his surroundings. A feeling of isolation loomed over him, the bitter knowledge that he was alone and had no idea what was happening was present in his mind.
He felt like he was drowning. While he remembered pushing New Zealand out of the way and the bullets landing in his side, he didn't remember being anywhere near the water, it felt like he was at the bottom of the ocean's floor. He couldn't call out for help because it felt like the air was being ripped from his throat, he couldn't breathe in his watery prison. The presence of the water around him was practically crushing him, making his chest feel weighted and bruised from the force.
He didn't feel wet like he would have thought, but instead cold. Well, the outside of his body felt cold. Because on the inside of his body, it felt as if someone had ignited a small fire in his chest. He had felt the sparks of heat come to life on the left side of his chest, it wasn't a comforting warmth to combat the cold that he had felt. It actually started to hurt. Even though he felt like he was surrounded by water, the flame didn't extinguish, and the pain didn't subside, in fact it was spreading.
The fire started to feel as if it was burning every cell in his body. It felt excruciating. If this was death, then it wasn't the painless bliss that most humans suggested it would feel like. Soon the feeling of burning flames started to reach the outside of his body, and the feeling of drowning had disappeared. It was like the fire had overpowered the sensation of drowning, he still couldn't breathe but he no longer felt the water crushing him.
As the fire started to climb up his body he felt himself being harshly tugged in the direction in front of him. At first he resisted, he didn't know what was happening. Was he being pulled to some strange place that nations end up when they die? But he was only hit by a couple of bullets, surely that didn't constitute as permanent death, did it? He didn't want to die.
But as he resisted, the unknown force that was tugging him only increased it's strength, making it harder to resist. Once the fire had covered the entirety of his body, the burning pain reminded him of all the bushfires he would experience, he felt himself being forcibly dragged to the emptiness in front of him. He once again felt light-headed as he felt himself being pulled into the darkness around him.
XxxxXxxx
Australia gasped as his eyes snapped open, he relished in the sweet taste of air. The fire he had felt burning his body had dimmed, leaving only a tingly sensation through his being. His head throbbed terribly as he tried to figure out where he was. He felt himself laying on something that felt soft and warm, a pleasant change for the cold water he was just submerged in. He had to blink a couple of times to focus his vision, he squinted through the light that had filtered through the room he was in. His vision had finally settled on the relieved yet teary face of his brother.
New Zealand was hovering anxiously near Australia's hospital bed. A bandage wrapped around his injured arm. It had no doubt healed by now, but the bandage was probably only to show, it would arouse suspicion if he had revealed that it had healed in such short time. A smile had broken out on his New Zealand's face as he wrapped his arms tightly around Australia's neck in a hug. Australia returned the embrace, happy that he no longer felt alone and isolated in the dark empty place he was just in.
New Zealand broke the hug to study his brother's face for any sign of pain.
"Aus, bro are you okay? A-Are you in pain? I can get one of the nurses if you are?"
"I'm fine mate, a little sore but it'll come good," Australia replied, "Can ya help me sit up though?"
New Zealand helped his brother sit up, being careful of the bandage wrapped tightly around his brother's torso where the bullets had landed. Australia winced slightly at his side being moved so suddenly, one thing he hated about this war, was that his injuries healed at a slower rate than what they normally did, it was a real inconvenience at times.
"Are you sure you're okay? I can-"
"New Zealand, give him a chance to breath at the very least," A new voice spoke firmly but not unkindly.
Australia recognised the voice anywhere, "Dad?"
Australia turned his head to see England sitting in a chair near the bottom of the medical bed. Australia wondered how he didn't sense the presence earlier. Despite the older nation's composed expression, no doubt to balance out New Zealand's emotions, a glimmer of relief was present in his eyes. While his posture was straight, it screamed exhaustion like he hadn't slept in days. Several injuries in the process of healing had covered his body. His uniform, which Australia knew his father wouldn't be caught dead wearing in anything less than perfect condition, was now covered in dirt and wrinkled. England smiled softly in greeting.
"It's good to see you awake once more," England commented.
"What happened?" Australia asked, "I remember getting shot and then being in complete darkness and then a burning feeling and then I woke up. I thought you said we couldn't die?"
"We can, I said that we can't stay dead," England clarified, "Nations can die just like a human, but as long as we still have citizens and a land that we call our own, then we will resurrect. It's a painful process but it gets easier to deal with, to an extent, every time we experience it again."
"Well that's something I definitely don't want to go through again," Australia said. He rubbed his eye but winced ever so slightly when his hand brushed against the scar on his nose.
New Zealand didn't miss the wince.
"So what happened to your nose," New Zealand asked, "It wouldn't heal like the others"
Australia suddenly felt sheepish at the thought of explaining how he got his scar. Because how he received it, wasn't one of his brightest moments. That's why he was planning to avoid mentioning the part where he walked off alone, at night, and with an empty rifle. That probably wouldn't go over well.
"I had a pretty close shave with Turkey."
New Zealand's eyes widened, they hadn't met Turkey since they had first landed in Gallipoli. But they have caught glimpses of him, and he was tall and looked very strong.
"Really? I'm surprised you only got away with a scar," New Zealand commented.
"By the looks of it, in hand-to-hand combat no doubt?" England observed with a raised eyebrow, clearly not impressed. Had he not clearly expressed the dangers of such close combat?
Australia only seemed to smile innocently in reply. England sighed and rolled his eyes, sometimes he wondered if Australia would ever get a hold of that reckless attitude of his.
The relief on New Zealand's face had seemed to disappear as a new emotion seemed to simmer over. He connected his fist to Australia's shoulder, it wasn't hard because he didn't want to injure his brother anymore, but it was enough to at least make Australia let out a startled yelp.
"Ow! Hey what they hell was that for?"
"You are a bloody idiot you know that right?" New Zealand looked at his brother with irritated anger.
Australia could understand if it was England to react and begin to scold him in such a way. But New Zealand? He hardly ever got angry.
"About Turkey? Listen it's just a scar it could have been worse-"
"It's not about that. It's about the fact that you died Aus!" New Zealand stated loudly enough that England had to look around to make sure they weren't overheard by any human ears.
"You died, and I had to watch you die! I couldn't do anything but sense your presence disappear. I was the one that had to carry you back to the trenches, I was the one that was covered in blood, your blood. You don't know what it was like to have to carry back your lifeless body knowing that you had died instead of me. Then I had to sit there and watch while they had to dig out the bullets from you! Yet you're sitting there like nothing happened, you just brushed it to the side."
New Zealand couldn't help the tears the began to pool in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He just couldn't get the image of his brother's dead and lifeless body out of his mind. And now that he was relieved that he could finally see Australia alive and healthy again he just had to vent all his stress and worry that he had felt in the last two days.
"New Zealand," England spoke in a soft and understanding voice, "Go and get some air and get one of the nurses to get you a fresh bandage for your arm."
New Zealand at first looked conflicted on whether he should do what he was told, or to stay. His obedience won out in the end and he left the room. Australia wanted to go with him, to assure his brother that he was okay, but he decided to let the Kiwi cool down for a little while. When he had left England had let out a tired sigh.
"He's just overwhelmed with everything," England explained to his injured son, "He hasn't let your side since they brought you in. Experiencing a death and resurrection is hard, but witnessing one can be so much harder."
"How long have I been dead then?"
"About two days I believe," England stated, "I only arrived late last night. Resurrection is a complex process but during wars it does take longer than usual."
"How come you showed up?" Australia asked. They hadn't heard from England since they had left the training camps, they assumed he was busy. And if he knew that Australia would be fine when he healed, then he would have just sent a letter wishing him well.
England gave a ghost of a sad smile, "It's your first resurrection, you shouldn't have to face it alone like it did with mine. Besides, when I received New Zealand's call about you, he sounded so desperate and he could barely speak coherently over his cries, for a good moment I thought that you had actually-"
Even if England had cut himself off before he could finish what he was saying, Australia could translate it. The older nation was worried so he wanted to see for himself that Australia was okay. Even if Australia had grown up and had been living on his own for quite some time, it was comforting to know that their father would still fuss over them.
England's eyes travelled to the scar on Australia's nose, "It will be permanent you know."
"Huh?" Australia was pulled from his thoughts, he had missed what his father had said before.
"Your scar will be permanent, scars by another nation will never fully heal and they are some of the weakest parts of our bodies. If you want I can conceal it with my magic, it will still be there but it'll be hidden from sight. I've had to do the same numerous times for the other nations over the years."
Australia gently ran his fingers over the scar on his nose, it was still sore but it wasn't all that big. Besides, he really didn't think England was capable of performing magic in his current weakened condition.
"Nah it's all good, I reckon it adds some level of mystery," Australia grinned, "Besides, I can always cover it with something later on, I still want to see that it's there."
And he did, it was a symbol that he had fought at Gallipoli. His reminder of his first battle in a world war.
England sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, relishing in the relief that the stinging sensation had faded briefly. "I swear, you and your brother will actually put me in an early grave."
A cheeky smile found its way to Australia's face, "You bet old man."
England usually would have scowled at the prospect of being called old. But this time he just stood up and placed a supporting hand on Australia's shoulder.
"Take care my boy, I'll go an check on your brother then it's back to the front with me I'm afraid," England stated, "I'll be seeing you soon."
"Thanks dad" Australia spoke softly as his father had left the medical hospital. Sometimes he really did love that old pommy. He was just glad that he didn't have to wake up alone after his resurrection, it was a painful and terrifying experience to even go through.
XxxxXxxx
After months upon months of continued fighting on the Gallipoli peninsula, after all the bloodshed, after all the death, suffering and carnage, they were given the order. They were leaving.
Australia had mixed feelings about the news. He wanted to leave because he was sick of the fighting and all the slaughter at this godforsaken place. But at the same time, he wanted to stay. He wanted to stay because so many people had died on the beaches and on the hill, it just felt weird and wrong to just up and leave. Australia knew that New Zealand felt the same about leaving.
But they had gotten the order from England, they were heading to the western front to fight, alongside every other nation they were allied with.
"Hand me that string over there would ya?" Australia asked as he positioned his rifle over the side of the trench.
"So help me out here, we're going to the western front yeah?" New Zealand spoke as he peered out from the top of the trench with his binoculars on lookout. He handed his brother the requested item, not taking his eyes away from his task. "Did dad say where?"
Australia began to tie the string to the ration tins that were situated both above and below his rifle.
"Dunno, I think he mentioned some place called the Somme," Australia replied, not stopping what he was doing. He tugged on the string to make sure that it was tight and wouldn't come undone.
"Incoming!" New Zealand shouted to the men in their area.
Everyone had abandoned what they were doing in favour to duck to the ground, covering their heads with their arms to protect from the debris that went flying when a shell had impacted with the ground behind their trench. A shower of dust and dirt rained down on them.
After waiting a good couple of seconds Australia and New Zealand deemed it safe to continue what they were doing. The shell was off target and had missed so thankfully, there was no casualties this time.
"Well wherever it is," New Zealand began as he ran his fingers through his brown curls to shake some of the dust and dirt out, "It can't be any worse than this place."
New Zealand then handed over the binoculars to a passing soldier, one that was ordered to take over the shift as the look out. The young sheep loving nation leant against the side of the trench wall, his arms folded to rest in front of his chest as he continued his conversation with Australia. The older of the two brothers was still hard at work with filling on the ration tins with water.
"I don't know how those people over in England think we are going to get around sixty thousand of our people out. Then again, it's not them who have to suffer so they really don't care how we do it I suppose," New Zealand ranted, but he got no response from Australia, "Aus? Bro are you listening?"
"Huh? Oh yeah the evacuation thing," Australia confirmed of his attention. He tied the string around the trigger of the rifle and stepped away from his invention, a wide smile of pride on his face.
"This is our solution to that issue," Australia stated proudly, "Take a gander and tell me what you think."
New Zealand turned around to walk closer to inspect the device that his brother had spent that morning making. It was a rifle propped up on a small plank of wood, the ration tines that Australia had "borrowed" from him sat both near the rifle, one sat above that teemed with water, the other one just hung at the bottom of the rifle. They both had string that connected them to the trigger of the gun.
"This is the thing you have been talking about all morning? This is the thing that you said would help us evacuate sixty thousand people? This?" New Zealand had to clarify he could barely see the use for it. Maybe Australia had gotten hit harder with those bullets then he had thought, "What is it?"
Despite the pure confusion on his younger brother's face, it didn't deter his enthusiasm and his smile didn't falter.
"I told you, it's how we are getting out of this place."
New Zealand resisted the urge not to roll his eyes at Australia once again stating the obvious. He didn't want to hurt his brother's feelings after he had been working hard all morning, but for the life of him he really had no idea what it was.
"…I don't understand, are you trying to boil water for tea again? Because it's got a leak in it." New Zealand pointed to the hole in the upper ration tin. The water was leaking out at a slow pace as it landed into the lower ration tin.
Now it was Australia's turn to roll his eyes at the short nation. "It's supposed to leak. Listen, it's a self-firing rifle. The water will gradually fell into the bottom tin and then when it gets heavy enough-"
As he was explaining, the bottom tin, now filled with water, fell and the trigger was released sending a bullet flying out of the rifle.
"It will fire just like that. They'll still think we're firing at them, when really we'll be heading back to the boats."
New Zealand stared in silent awe of the invention. A smile adorned his face. He really had to hand it to Australia, he actually pulled it off. The idea was brilliant!
"That's so cool!" New Zealand admired, "I gotta admit it Aus, you actually did pretty well."
"Your lack of confidence hurt Zea," Australia tried to feign hurt, but the grin on his face gave him away.
"Yes well it was confidence in you that got us lost in Egypt, remember?" New Zealand quipped back with his remark.
"You know as well as I do that we should have taken the left, like I suggested."
New Zealand shrugged, knowing that it would annoy his brother, signalling that he didn't either agree or disagree.
"But you seriously think that this will work bro?" New Zealand asked, "Because as soon as we step off his land he's going to know what's happening."
"Then we'll make sure that we are the last ones to leave. It'll be fine, I promise." Australia assured his brother.
It was something he found himself doing a lot since they arrived in Gallipoli, he didn't mind though. New Zealand had an easier time openly expressing his emotions more than he did, so he would just push his discomfort aside to help his little brother, he could always deal with his own thoughts later.
New Zealand nodded, even though he didn't express his worries verbally, he knew Australia had considered them as well.
It wasn't long until night had fell upon them. It was time to move. Australia, New Zealand and their people had worked all afternoon to set up the self-loading rifles or drip rifles, as they were dubbed officially as. It had been a successful job as every ten minutes bullets had been fired. The Turkish soldiers wouldn't suspect a thing.
Australia and New Zealand trailed behind to ensure that they would be the last to leave. Because if they had stepped off Turkey's land, then he would be able to sense that they were leaving. Australia had to focus yet again on where he was stepping on the ground, they weren't allowed any source of light, they needed to be in kept in total darkness and total silence.
Everyone was tense, they were expecting the bullets and shells to be fired their way. But they never were. Their diversion had worked, and with not a single death.
Australia and New Zealand stopped at the beach, they both turned around with solemn expressions to get one last look at the place they had months upon months struggling to survive. They knew it wasn't all of Turkey's fault, he'd been only trying to defend his home, something that both the two brothers would do if it was their home that was invaded.
"I Can't believe it," Australia whispered bitterly, "Nine months at this bloody place and the only thing that was successful was our escape."
"We didn't even gain a damned thing," New Zealand added. Tears had already begun to fall from his eyes.
Australia's eyes started to sting from the flow of tears that had brimmed in his eyes. He hardly ever cried, but a few tears had fallen when he cast his gaze over to the gravestones with his people buried under.
All those people, his people.
The ones that remained had grieved terribly for their fallen mates, but they still carried on with that courageous spirit. They didn't know that Australia and New Zealand had felt every single one of their deaths. Their suffering, their pain and their grief was their burden to bare. The downside to being a personification.
XxxxXxxx
Australia and New Zealand remained silent as they stood from the boat deck watching as Gallipoli grew smaller in the distance. They were the first to arrive, and now they had been the last to leave.
"You know," Australia broke the silence between them and his brother, at an attempt to lighten the mood. It was something he was always good at, "I'd give anything to see the look on their faces when they realise we'd left."
New Zealand gave a half-hearted smile, "I just got an update on where we are heading next."
"I thought we were going to France?"
"Oh we still are, but apparently dad wants us to take a little detour before we arrive at the Somme," New Zealand said.
"Alright," Australia sighed, "Where's the old man sending us this time?"
"You're not going to like it bro."
"Just say it already."
"We are going to one of the training camps in France. England thinks that we and our people need to be prepared for how to fight on the front." New Zealand explained unhappily. He wasn't looking forward to training again.
"What?!" Australia exclaimed in pure horror. He didn't hate training, he loathed it! There's no way he could spend one more minute with those British officers that were in charge of training.
"Please tell me you're kidding! I swear if we have to do any more hand-to-hand training or bloody push ups I am jumping off this boat and swimming back to Gallipoli." Australia groaned miserably.
"Oh come on bro, it wasn't that bad," answered New Zealand, but after receiving a look from Australia, he said something else, "Okay it was worse. But at least we get to go to France straight after, right? Besides with how you went against Turkey I wouldn't put it past dad if he arranged more hand-to-hand training."
Because after all, how bad could the western front be? They had seen horrors at Gallipoli, so surely France couldn't be as bad.
Oh but it is so much worse! The western front was actually more devastating than Gallipoli, but I'll get into that with those chapters. Hint: I'm not writing the training at France, it was hard enough writing the first one XD. SO instead, the next chapter will be right to the Western Front
OML! Trying to write the resurrection scene killed me, I have never died and I have never resurrected so I don't know what it feels like (so I hope it makes sense) XD. So once again thank you to the lovely 'CaraIsTrash' for discussing some theories and giving me some awesome suggestions. I tried to link the resurrection process with being cold and surrounded by darkness as him actually dying, but when the fire is consuming his body he is being resurrected like his life candle was being re-lit and when he felt like he was being pulled was him returning to his body. Not too sure if it worked or not but hopefully it makes somewhat sense XD.
So, the drip rifle was an Australian invention that was used by the Anzacs when they evacuated Gallipoli. The had 60,000 soldiers to evacuate Gallipoli and the British expected a death toll of around 40,000 during the evacuation. But as far as I know, there weren't any casualties by the Turkish soldiers that night.
Approximately 9,000 Australians (2,000 on the first day alone) and 3,000 New Zealanders had died during the Gallipoli campaign.
So did anyone suspect that England would show up? Do you think that this will be the only time Australia has to resurrect? What lies in store when they arrive on the Western Front? Until Next time my friends :)