"Rise and shine, pet, daddy's home." The man called as he entered the cell. Hawkeye lay in the fetal position, surrounded by and lying in the shit, piss, and vomit he'd produced for the past week. He shuddered when the man stormed in. He grabbed Pierce by the hair and dragged him out and down a hall, concrete like the room, all the way to a room with a rusty spigot in the wall. The man turned the handle and forced the filthy man under the cold water. Hawkeye cringed but didn't fight, glad to be clean. He scrubbed himself slowly and the icy water took care of the filth. The water was turned off and he was taken to a new room, exactly like the old one, but clean.
"Do you give up yet?"
Pierce just lay there, trying not to move from where he'd been dumped. His body was screaming at him for some reprieve. His stomach growled loudly and was churning at the thought of another beating. When he took too long to answer, the man kicked him in the gut. At the further lack of response, he kicked again and continued until Pierce tried to pull himself away rather than lie there. The man stopped and left, returning once again with liquor, this time two bottles of scotch. He straddled the struggling man beneath him and set them down. Hawkeye fought weakly, but the man just pinned his arms, cuffed them behind his back with some maneuvering, and opened the bottles. He brought the first to Hawkeye's mouth, which stayed stubbornly shut. The man held his nose until Hawkeye gasped, then shoved the neck of the bottle between his teeth. Pierce bucked as much as he could while the harsh liquid down his throat. He choked and spluttered. Before the bottle was done, his vision got blurry. He couldn't breathe, and his body couldn't take much more. Finally it was gone, and he felt a warm buzz, but already the other bottle was at his lips. The man poured the liquor down his throat, smirking as the pinned man's struggling died down slowly. The second bottle was empty and Pierce could only cough violently as the man continued to hold the bottle. When Hawkeye could breathe again, he dazedly looked up to see the bottle coming down on him. It met his shoulder and he cried out. The man continued to beat him with the thick glass bottle, laughing as Pierce began to cry from the sheer pain and distress, drunk beyond measure.
The beating continued for a few minutes until Pierce sobbed, "Stop-p, no more." He shuddered with pain and exhaustion when a final blow for good measure met his leg. The bottle was dropped and the man straddled him again, leaning down to meet his prisoner's red eyes.
"Will you obey?"
Hawkeye started to cry again. "I-I can't, please, I can't do it, I'm s-sorry..."
The man clicked his tongue sympathetically and ran a hand through the desperate man's dark hair. "Shh, shh, I know. It's hard for you."
Hawkeye leaned into his touch, his stuttering and panicked breathing leveling out. He closed his eyes.
"That's why-" He punched him in the jaw, "I'll have-" punch, "to beat-" hit, "that" right hook, "OUT of you!" Another beating session ensued, and by the time he was done with the intoxicated man, Pierce was spasming and coughing up blood. The man stepped back and smiled down on his work.
"You will obey, doc, you just have to give in to the pain."
He left.