A/N: Hey guys. This is a very dark, angsty, and entirely pain-centric fic about Hawk Pierce. It is a bit shallow, perhaps, lingering on the hurt side if hurt/comfort, but I put a lot of work into the characterization and how to make the plot and setting as realistic as possible while writing such a relentless story. I had no intention to post this, but I aim to please. I'd love to see some reviews, but plain ol' views are nice too. Tell me what I can work on, make more believable, what you'd like to see in a story - heck, let me in on your personal taste so I can write what ya want to read! I have my plan for this story all set, but I'm always up for suggestions.

Enjoy.

Hawkeye jolted awake, groggy and confused. He was waking up... but upright. Someone laid their hand on his thigh when he groaned. Strangely, instead of his typical reaction of a flirtatious smile or a chuckle, his reaction was instinctive. He pulled away slightly, opening his eyes warily. There was a man standing in front of him, watching him. Hawkeye narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat.

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You don't remember?" The man smiled. It took a minute for the grin to register as menacing rather than friendly.

Hawkeye looked around. He was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists in chains, centered in a cement room. He was shirtless and barefoot, his feet on the ground but just enough that he couldn't quite stand, just touch. He shivered when the man ran his hand up his side.

"No, I don't."

The guy huffed and placed his hand on the hanging man's chest, gently touching it. Pierce hissed and pulled away. He looked down to see that his chest was so severely bruised that it was more black and blue - and yellow, green, red, and purple - than he thought possible without being run over by a tank. Now that he thought about it, the pain made his stomach churn violently and he groaned. His head was practically splitting as well.

"Yes, well, I figured that beating would have some ramifications."

"Beating?"

"You thought it was a good idea to fight against me. I didn't even have to pull my gun. You went down hard, and all the while bitching about the violation of the Geneva Convention. Remember that?"

Hawkeye shook his head and inhaled sharply as the man punched him in the gut. Another hit to his chest made him cry out. Definitely some broken ribs.

"I don't care if you remember, so long as you understand your position here. You are mine. You will do as I say, when I say it, and without attitude. Step out of line and you will be punished. Do you understand?"

Hawkeye pulled himself up a bit before answering, "I don't know why you'd think a surgeon would so easily submit. If you wanted someone to follow your orders, you should have kidnapped a soldier."

The man growled and punched him in the chest again. And again. He continued to beat the doctor until Pierce yelled again. The man reached up and unlocked his restraints. Pierce fell to the ground with a yelp. The man kicked him, over and over again. Hawkeye cried out as more of his ribs were broken. Finally, when he thought he was about to pass out, it stopped. He groaned and shivered, cold on the hard concrete floor. The man grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to meet his eyes. Hawkeye's searching eyes, looking for a reason for this violence, met the eyes of a man who... who enjoyed this. The man was enraged and belligerent, but amused at the same time.

"Will you obey?"

"Ask my CO. Never."