Hawkeye was going to die. Without food, he was wasting away. He was so thin now that he could see which ribs were broken. It had been nearly three weeks and he was starting to lose it. The man no longer made offers, he just got him too drunk to think and beat him senseless. Pierce was no longer human, just a cowering, broken man. He didn't speak anymore, since it really only got him beaten. He could only choke out bile now, and he'd only gotten one glass of water when his captor had seen him start to become delirious.

When the man walked into the cell today, Hawkeye shuddered.

"Oh, what is it, doc? Too much pain?"

Pierce nodded shakily, huddled up in the far corner.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you decided to defy me." He strode toward his victim and chuckled. "Think if I beat you around the head enough, you'll lose your vision? Maybe if I do this." He grabbed Hawkeye's head and smashed it into the wall behind him. The shattered man cried out as it made a sickening cracking sound and the blood ran down his neck.

"No, you still look at me this those big sad eyes. Pity." He continued to smash Pierce's head into the wall until the doctor was knocked unconscious.

"Oh, no, you're not getting off that easy." He wrapped his hand around the still man's black and blue neck, cutting off his air. After a few seconds, Pierce shifted, then jolted awake, his hands grabbing at those strangling him. He couldn't breathe enough to beg for his life, so he just mouthed, "Please."

The man removed his grip and smiled as his captive heaved. Once Pierce's hyperventilating died down to wheezing, he shifted slightly, wincing at the movement of his broken arm.

"P-please," he whimpered, tear tracks down his dirty face making it a pitiful sight. "I'll obey, I'll behave."

The man stood, eyebrows raised. "You will - you surrender?"

"Y-yes," Hawkeye sobbed.

The man smiled and ran a hand through Pierce's hair, almost petting him. Hawkeye leaned into the touch, unused to a foreign hand being so gentle, watching the man in trepidation.

"Good choice."

The soft touch became a sharp grip as the man grabbed his hair and dragged him to the center of the room. Hawkeye laid there, limp with defeat, as his captor brought out the liquor. The usual rough routine to force it down his throat ensued, and when the man stood above him once more, Hawkeye was already intoxicated.

"W-why?"

"This is for taking so long to surrender. It was never your decision to make. You should have snapped sooner if you wanted to make it out in one piece." He left and returned a few seconds later with something that made Hawkeye tremble.

A whip.

He was forced to his knees. Hawkeye dared not move, leaning forward with his palms on the ground and staying there. His back was bare and exposed, bruised but not nearly as much as his chest. Virtually unmarked.

The first crack of the whip would change that forever. He cried out as the leather struck the tender skin. After several hits, the leather began to cut into the flesh. Pierce yelled as there was a quick succession of lashes that sliced into his back sharply. There were rugged shallow tears in his back, torn more with the following lashes. A dozen passed before Hawkeye screamed. Another ten before he screamed again, the cry so loud and raw that his voice cracked and he only grunted for the next few hits. Pierce's broken arm gave out, leaving him to fall forward before the lashes stopped. Losing his angle, the man dropped the whip and kicked his captive onto his side. Hawkeye shuddered and spasmed.

"You ready to obey, doc? This is your last chance."

Pierce licked his bruised lips and nodded.

"Good." The man left again, returning with a loaf of bread instead of the whip. He tossed it to the bleeding heap of a person that lay shuddering on the floor, leaving him for now.

Pierce dragged himself to the bread. It was stale and cool, but he practically tore into it. He hadn't eaten in weeks. He shouldn't be alive. His stomach churned uneasily, but he refused to let himself throw up. He couldn't know when he would be given more food.

That night, his nightmares had him screaming more than the new gashes in his body.