This is a rewrite of one of my older stories, 'Abduction.' I've had some new perspectives on the characters and the wording of the old one was annoying me. So, here goes nothing!

Disclaimer—I do not, nor will I ever, own Axis Powers: Hetalia.

(Note: The first little section is in Peter's perspective. It change to third person after that.)

I was only ten when my papa showed me a movie called "Taken." He wanted to show me how to be safe and stuff when you're by yourself and not to tell strangers personal information unless you want that to happen.

He wanted to address the dangers about it.

He wanted to show me what would happen if I ignored all of that stuff. Every time he and his boyfriend Tino go out, they always have me recite all these rules that they made up since we all watched the movie. "It's for your safety, Peter!" Tino would say, messing up my hair and grinning like usual. Papa would just grunt in agreement.

I always followed those rules… yes, haha, so what I'm kind of a nerd or whatever or following them but that movie had scared the living hell outta me, especially since I was younger than I am now. The houses where they kept all those girls, the way they treated them; it was just flat out gross.

I never thought it could happen to me. I was a boy after all. Only girls were taken into sex rings, only girls were sexually wanted and all of that. You'd think after watching the movie, I'd be more aware of my surroundings and the news.

So totally, completely wrong.

"So, Peter, what do you do if someone unknown tries to break into the house?" Tino lilted, a sing song-y voice that was complete with an accent. The young boy, Peter, slightly rolled his eyes; his best friend, Raivis, stood next to him, playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Hide. Call the police, then call you. Be extremely quiet!" Peter recited—he had gone over this so many times it was embedded into his brain by now. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. I've stayed home by myself so many times, I'm not scared! And besides," he glanced over at Raivis, "I have Raivis with me! He'll protect me!" At this moment, Berwald, Peter's papa, strode into the room while putting the finishing touches on his tie.

Raivis opened his mouth to talk, but ended up closing it and merely nodding his head unsurely.

"See!" Peter exclaimed. "We'll be a-okay. Papa," a glance up at Berwald, "when'll you be home?" Berwald shrugged.

"'Round ten or so, latest 't eleven." He opened the wooden door, leading Tino out before him. "Be good—goes fer you too, Raivis."

And then they were gone, door closed. Peter locked it immediately after and he closed one eye to look through the small peephole to watch his dad and his boyfriend leave.

"Well, okay, now that they're gone, what do you want to do?" Peter questioned while pulling away from the door. "We could watch a movie, play games, steal Papa's computer and go to 'questionable' websites—"

"Peter!"

"Kidding, kidding. But do you want to watch a movie or something? We have tons in the basement. Tino brought over a lot of Finnish films when he moved in. They have subtitles so we could read it aloud in weird voices!" Peter laughed, completely serious about the weird voices.

Raivis made a noise then shrugged, one side of his mouth quirking to one side. "We can do that. Do you want me… I could make some popcorn. Do you have any?" Peter nodded, skidding into the kitchen while nearly dragging Raivis in with him. He opened the cabinet and yanked out a box of popcorn.

"Just put it in the microwave and—yeah. I'll go get the movie!" Peter declared, leaving Raivis alone upstairs in the cabin like house.

Flinging the basement door open, Peter jumped down half the stairs in one leap, wandering over to the mildly dusty shelf of movies. 'Weird… weird… how do you even pronounce that?' he thought to himself before dragging his fingers along the edges and randomly picking a movie. "Mmm, this'll work, I guess, maybe Raivis'll—" he paused in mid sentence, jumping nearly a foot in the air when a resonant thud came from upstairs.

Peter shrugged it off after listening for a couple of seconds. "Raivis must've tripped over something…" he mumbled under his breath, walking toward the steps upstairs.

Then came the loud footsteps.

'That is definitely not Raivis…' Peter's mind buzzed. Were Berwald and Tino home already? It had barely been ten minutes, their dates usually went a lot longer than that. "Raivis?" he called up the stairs, halfway up and peering through the door with worried eyes. "Are you okay?" Another clang, and a tremulous shriek.

"Raivis!" Peter fled up the stairs, not daring to step out of the doorway and roaming his eyes all along the visible parts of the house.

"Is this the one in the picture? 'e looks too old," a deep voice that was sounded like a lion materialized from the kitchen. Peter heard the rustling of papers. "No, not 'im. Must be another kid, which means the other's here somewhere. Find 'im. Ah, we get two today. Lucky us."

Peter couldn't move. 'This isn't happening, this isn't happening, holy hell, okay, it's happening.' He had to sort his thoughts out before remembering the rules he had memorized.

"Hide."

Even through his clouded mind, Peter knew he had to go somewhere and not let these guys hurt him. His whole body was trembling, knees shaking so hard it felt as though he was seizing, but he felt for his cell phone in his pocket. Check.

Deep breath.

Sprint down to Berwald's room and once in there, close the door. Lock it, if there's a lock.

Check.

Peter whipped out his phone, flexing his hand to get to just stop shaking and dial 911. The footsteps resounded throughout the house, travelling upstairs with rowdy thuds. Peter held the phone up to his ear, dialing tone beeping and heart nearly palpitating.

"911, please hold."

"No, no no no, dangit!" Peter breathed, inhaling sharply and hanging up on the police. The footsteps were retreating from the stairs and getting closer and closer.

Peter hurriedly dialed Tino's number, giving quick glances at the door every two seconds and listening for more footsteps. There weren't any.

"Peter?" Tino answered. His voice was carefree, giggling through the phone. "What's up?"

Peter could barely croak out, "There are people in the house."

Tino's tone changed profoundly and the clanging of glass colliding with table was in the background. "Ah, cold water shit- Wait, Peter… Peter, don't kid about this kind of stuff, you almost gave me a heart att—"

"No, Tino, listen to me, there are… there are two big men in the house and Raivis is somewhere in the kitchen I think they knocked him out 'cause I heard him shriek and I'm freaking out in Papa's room right now because they know I'm here but don't know where I am and… and I don't know what to do." Peter's words were rushed, accent so thick it was hardly comprehensible. Tears had started to form in the corners of his eyes. "Help."

He heard shushed whispers from Tino, probably to Berwald, because he was on the phone seconds later. "Peter?" he growled, voice strained but still calm.

"Listen. Fer once, listen to me. Hide under th' bed. Don't say a w'rd. I…" Deep breath. "Peter, they'll find ya. It's improbable they won't. This'll sound weird but I want you to describe 'em to me. Th' men. Don't wanna scare ya, we'll find ya."

Peter whimpered and nodded, scampering under the bed and holding his breath to push down away the frightened yelps he was holding back. He could hear the pace coming closer to the door, clicking against the wooden floors outside of the room.

The door crashed open, ringing out in the silence like a gunshot.

Peter inhaled deeply, letting out a deep sob in the back of his throat and he covered his mouth with a free hand. "Papa, they're in the room," he whispered soundly into the phone, marginally muffled. Berwald didn't say anything back.

"Don't see 'im in 'ere," the boisterous voice reported. "'m gonna check more though, 'kay?" At this point, Peter's tears were flowing freely down his face, eyes blurring, as he was too afraid to move the slightest bit to wipe them away. He bit his lip to the point of tearing the skin, metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

Shiny black boots through the opening under the bed.

Click.

Click.

The boots stopped right in front of the bed. Peter knew better than to say anything to Berwald or Tino on the phone. They hadn't acknowledged him since Berwald explained his plan.

The bed suddenly caved slightly, lump forming in the middle right above where Peter was. He craned his neck, not wanting to be freaking squished then grasped the phone with both hands. His fingers wound so tight around the device they were white, eyes squeezed shut with pure terror.

The man stood up, enjoying the fluffy covers with a small, "Mm," before striding over to the door leading out. Peter's heart had a small amount of hope and he opened one curious blue eye, peeping out moderately to check—was he leaving? He was leaving! He wouldn't be sold off to weirdo creepy people and he was going to see his papa and Tino again and… well, Raivis but—

"Peter!" Tino's voice rang out in the dead silence, dropped like a bomb. Peter heard Berwald shushing Tino, gentle comforts mumbled in Swedish.

The boot paused in mid-step.

"Ah, what do we have 'ere?" The figure turned around slowly, strolling back over to the bed and Peter shimmied back underneath.

He stopped directly in front of Peter's face.

Suddenly—the man bent down.

A face.

"'ey, there, child."

Peter screamed.

"Papa Tino Raivis Hanatamago anyone HELP ME!" he cried, not caring about how his voice carried, closing his eyes yet again and reaching out to punch the man in the nose.

However, he was gone. The man had disappeared. The steps migrated to the other side of the bed.

Peter felt something pulling at his ankles.

"No no no no no no no no—STOP! Stop it, no, stop, let go of me!" Peter yelled. Not a forced one but a raspy scream, raw and terrified. "You stupid bastard, stop it!" He tried to wriggle out the grasp, but when you're in a position of anxiety and so small it's hard to get free from a man so large and muscley-

"Peter! Peter!" Tino's sobs echoed from the phone, the sound of a car door closing barely apparent through Peter's pleas of help.

He tried kicking the man in the face; no, no, it wasn't working, he was too small! Peter was yanked out from under the bed, arm grazing the metal bedpost, droplets of blood blossoming. He had to get a good look at this man, he knew he did but the world was spinning so much and he felt like he was just going to piss himself and his heart was beating so fast, brain telling him to yell some more...

"Brown hair weird gray eyes crooked nose yellow teeth tan really really tall wearing red sweatshirt –" the phone was forced out of his hand and thrown to the ground.

The last thing Peter heard from the phone was a pronounced, "Peter!" from Berwald before the man stepped on it, crushing the phone to bits. His only form of communication.

Gone.

"You… let.. go of me, stop it stop it, fuck you!" Peter spat, words rolling off his tongue and attempting to nurse his injured arm. The man simply lifted Peter off the ground and scrutinized him dead in the eye.

"'ey, kid. I'm your new... friend," he snarled.

Peter fainted.

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