AU: After the rebellion was over, Katniss never recovered.

Peeta's POV;

Sweat beads on my fore-head and dirt had gathered under whats left of my knawed finger nails. I stand back, leaning on my shovel, admiring the yellow flowers that i had just planted. Katniss had told me to plant them, that she loved Dandelions. Though she never told me why, even when i asked. I look down at my watch, 10:00am. Visiting hours started in half-an hour. I drag myself inside, shower, change into my good clothes and put on my plain gold wedding ring, spinning it around a few times before i leave.

I push through the heavy glass doors of the large building. "Morning Peeta," Nods one of the guards. I continue past the receptionist who gives me a warm smile, tilting her head. The automatic door opens with a hiss and i am greeted with screams, cries and the occasional banging. I walk down the small corridor, passing the continual array of doors, trying not to look inside the rooms. I stop at the door that reads '65' and gaze inside the white room, through the small glass panel. A woman sits motionless on a thin, worn mattress, her brown, mattered hair covering her face. She's swaying from side to side, ever so slightly. I raise my hand and give a little tap on the thick glass, a sympathetic smile on my face. Her head drowsily sways around to look at me. It takes a little while for her to recognise, but she finally realises its me. Her husband. She jumps up, stumbling a bit, as i quickly unlock the door and enter.

"Peeta!" She sings, her face filled with delight. I take her in my arms, stroking the back of her hair down, taking in her warmth.

"Hey, Katniss." I soothe, swaying with her. She pulls back and looks into my eyes, those hurt eyes. "I dont like it here Peeta," she cries, "i can't sleep without you." She told me this every time, whether its because she forgets she said it, or shes trying to make me feel guilty about it. With all these crazed wails, i know i wouldn't be able to sleep either. I look down at her hands on my shirt and see the new bandages on her wrists. She quickly pulls away when she notices ive seen them.

"This is why you cant come home Katniss." I utter. After all the attempts of suicide, the hospital chucked her in this place, saying it would help her. How on earth did she do it anyway? Wasn't this supposed to be a sharp free zone? "How?" I croak out, thinking of how this wouldn't have happened if she was in my arms. She rubs her hands together and mumbles, "My nails." I see her nails that have been cut down and rounded. "I started thinking of the baby." And thats all it took for the tears to spill down my face. My heartaches as i remember; 8 Months in, Katniss was quite big. I come home from a day at the bakery. I search the house. She's no where. I head to the bedroom. Nope. I open the door to our bathroom. Blood and faeces cover the white tiles. Katniss is doubled over, holding her stomach. Her body trembles, quiet moans escape her mouth. Something is in her arms. Our baby. Our dead, unborn baby.

A buzzer comes from above us, cutting me from my 's head whips upward. "No!" she screams, pulling me away from the door.

"Katniss-" I cry, still crying.

"No! No! No!" She wails, knowing that the noise means its time for me to go. I dont want to leave, i want to stay, i want to take her home. I want to protect her from all these noises, all the nightmares, the memories. As usual the men in white come and pry her from me, other hands shove me out the door, pushing me down the hallway. All i can hear is her muffled cries, her blood-curdling screams. They drown out the further away i get. Tears stain my face and there's only one sentence that runs through my mind.

'Poor mad girl.'