Hawkeye was jolted awake when a hand fisted in his hair and he was dragged out of the room into the bright hallway. He yelped at each tug, but finally they made it to the next room. The guy let him hit the floor next to a gurney. He pulled himself up, aching and bleeding again, to see someone strapped to the table. The restrained patient was bleeding from several apparent stab wounds to the abdomen. He was bruised and unconscious as well.

"I want you to patch him up within an hour. Nothing fancy, just enough that he can move. You haven't earned the privilege of using a scalpel, but I have some thread, a needle, gauze, and ethanol."

Pierce succeeded in remaining upright, but he couldn't keep his hoarse voice from wavering. "To perform an operation, everything has to be as sterile as possible."

The man stormed up to him and grabbed his throat threateningly. "I told you what you're given, now make do or go back to being my favorite pastime! Now, work." He shoved the surgeon away and stood back to supervise the procedure. Hawkeye turned around and stepped up to the table. At the edge lay the tools as listed. A shaky hand reached out to the rubbing alcohol first, which he liberally doused his hands with, sanitizing them, and ignoring the few bones that were healing from being broken on one of his captor's bad days. He sterilized the thread and needle before setting to work to clean the wound. He dabbed it with alcohol-soaked gauze, but it was a poor excuse for a cleanup. He then took up his final tools and slowly stitched up the lacerations. He had two more cuts to sew up when the body moved. Hawkeye recoiled as the patient bucked, coming awake in pain and restraints.

"No, stop it, get offa me!" The bleeding man demanded. He tried to pull away from the surgeon but froze when he saw the man behind him. "No, no no no... no!" He gasped for breath as he panicked, his eyes wide. "No, pl-"

The man had already knocked him out with a punch to the head.

When Pierce looked at him with horrified confusion, the man only chuckled, "Not a first-time customer." He bristled when the doctor remained still. "Work, damn it!"

Hawkeye finished the stitches, wrapped the area in gauze, and reset the tools before turning around anxiously. He was certain of the quality of his work, but he had no idea what this meant for him. That man had had scars that looked like they came from a terrifying array of weapons, and he was clearly a former captive of this man. What did that mean that he had in store for Pierce? And if he wasn't a 'first-time customer'... who knew when this hell would end, and if ever for good.

The man saw his fear and laughed, clapping him on the back forcefully. Hawkeye stumbled forward and groaned at the ignition of scalding pain down his back.

"Nicely done, doc. Onto the next one."

"N-next one?"

"Oh, yes, you work for me now, and this is where I want you. Don't worry, you've operated at the front lines, this shouldn't be too hard. Although, for every blunder you make here, you get a beating. Not that big of a difference."

After the man's mockery, Hawkeye risked a question. "Can I call my unit?"

The man made a sarcastically sympathetic face. "Oh, you miss your friends? Fine, but I'll prime you first. Can't have you coming up with something smart."

With that, he grabbed the thin man my the unbroken arm and swung him toward the door. Pierce tripped to it, leaning in the doorway to be laughed at by his captor. He was shoved out and down the hall, but he took this opportunity to appreciate his first time being able to walk from a room rather than be dragged. He was led to his cell and kicked inside, where he fell to his knees. The man stepped to the side of the doorway to grab something before he entered. Several things.

No.

Bottles of liquor and a bat.

The man raised his eyebrows as his prisoner tried to drag himself away, accidentally letting slip a whimper.

"Oh, you'll be in perfect condition to talk to your buddies. Can't put on a farce for them, they should know what you're really like: a pitiful, broken drunk."

He straddled the fragile doctor and opened the bottles. Hawkeye was practically vibrating, but far too weak and broken in to fight back. Whether or not Pierce could resist the force-feeding, his torturer still held his nose and shoved it into his mouth, not allowing him to breathe until he was done. He choked down the harsh liquor before the second bottle replaced the first. This time he had no breath before the bottle was poured, and started to buck slightly and choke violently. The man held fast, forcing him to swallow it all anyway. When it was taken away, Pierce was hacking away roughly, gasping desperately. The man stood over the man whose mind was quickly growing fuzzy and confusing. His eyes muddily traversed the room before landing on the weapon his captor now held. After a minute, even through his intoxicated state, he was still afraid of the pain to come. That bat met his flesh, bruising it darker than older markings had left it, and snapping some of his bones. The doctor screamed and curled up and tried to crawl away, but every time he was cut down. After twenty minutes, he lay twitching on the ground, unable to move without tears springing up in his eyes. The man brought a walkie-talkie to him and set it down next to him. There was a faint voice coming from it. When Hawkeye inched forward to lean into it to use the device, he began crying immediately at the voice he heard.

"Hello, receiver... MASH 4077th... waiting for... This is the MASH 4... 7th..." Radar's voice crackled before the wavelength settled, probably thanks to the kid's tinkering. "Hello, this is Radar O'Reilly, who's calling?"

Pierce closed his eyes in pain.

"R-radar... R-... Radar, it's m-me... i-it's Hawkeye."

Radar yelled loudly, startling him, but it was good. Happy.

"HEY! Hey, Hawkeye! Man, we've been looking for you for months! Gee, everyone thought you were dead! I didn't, but nobody listens to me... oh, BJ's awful down... Hawk, where you been?"

Pierce's brows furrowed as he struggled to form a sentence. "I-I'm... he, he took..." The usually eloquent doctor growled. "The man... I'm here, been here so long... Radar, why didn't you..."

"Hawk, what's wrong? Are you hurt? I can't understand you."

"Am, I tried, but it wasn't enough... I'm being punished."

"Where are you?"

"Dunno. Jail. Hell. Meatball surgery. Same thing." His thoughts were more choppy now.

Radar paused. "Is someone there with you?"

Pierce looked up at the man watching him. "Yeah... hurts me, Rade, h-help, I can't... I can't think."

"Hawkeye, I need you to tell me where you are."

The man grabbed the walkie-talkie and growled into it, "That's quite enough. He's said his goodbyes. Don't waste your time on him, he is mine now."

With that, the call was ended. A second late, Pierce whispered brokenly, "Radar..."

The man kicked him in the chest and knelt to see his face as the frail man coughed. "You're never going to see them again. You'll break and die before they find you."

Hawkeye closed his eyes and waited for him to leave. A minute later, the door slammed shut. He jumped and opened his eyes to the empty cell.

"I know."