(A/N: I do not own any part of the Hunger Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)

He holds me closer to him, his warm body soothing against my own cold, naked form. He kisses my eyes. "It'll be okay, love. Let's get you cleaned up," he tries to force his voice into something calming, but he can barely hide the panic that he feels from me. He stands up, carrying me bridal style into the bathroom. Without letting go of me, he starts running the shower to a comfortably warm setting. Steam fills up the room, and I can't help but sit against his chest and cry.

He rocks me absent mindedly against his chest. "Shhhhh, don't cry, my love," his right hand runs itself through my hair while his left hand holds me securely against his body. I just can't seem to help the stream of tears that continuously flow down my cheeks, dripping onto his shirt. "I'll call your mother while you're in the bath, alright? She can check to see if our baby is alright." He tries to be my brick wall, but I can hear the crack in his voice as he says the words our baby. He kisses my forehead, eases me into the shower stall filled with steam and hot running water, which feels wonderful against my aching body, and then closes the door behind him as he leaves to call my mother.

I feel sick to my stomach as I watch the blood taint the water as it's draining. I stand there for what seems like forever, listening to nothing but the water beat against the shower floor and walls and the thoughts inside of my head. As the water starts to cool down, I shake myself back into what's going on around me and I turn the heat on to full blast. I pick up a bar of soap and a cloth, lathering up the fabric before I start scrubbing myself with it.

I need to clean the blood off of me. I have to scrub myself clean. I scrub at my skin hard until I see no traces of blood left on me aside from some scabs. I back up against the wall of the shower and slide down until I'm sitting on the floor, continuing to scrub myself, especially my thighs. I can't help but let my mind slip to how dirty I am, how Peeta will never want me after someone else has taken me in such an intimate and personal way. I scrub harder.

Make it go away. Make him go away…

My official mantra. I keep saying it in my mind, and I let out sobs of anger and disgust while I continue scrubbing my body clean.

I'm so focused on scrubbing and cleaning myself that I don't notice the door open or Peeta step inside. I only realize he's here when he calls for me, opens the door to our shower and I look up at him. Tears sting my eyes when I see his face and I can feel myself falling apart.

"Let's get you out of here, you've damn near scrubbed yourself raw." And I didn't notice it before, but when I look down I can see bright red splotches of broken, raw skin all over my body. "Your mom will be here shortly to take a look at you. I didn't explain everything… I don't even know everything, but I wanted to make sure that you were alright." I nod as he places a towel around my shoulders and holds my shivering body close to him.

About 30 minutes later, I'm dressed and dry. I'm sitting on the couch with Peeta across from my mother who is asking us both questions about the earlier events of the day. After some answers are given, my mother asks me to lie down in my bedroom and get undressed. The gesture fills me with nerves, but I'm made calm by the fact that my mother would never do anything to hurt me.

I get under the blankets, completely undressed, and she comes in with Peeta to have a look at what could be wrong. Peeta steps back out and tells mom that he'll come back in when she's ready to give a diagnosis.

Once we're alone, my mother pulls up the covers and spreads my legs. After prodding my stomach, and looking around inside of me, I hear a sigh and she comes back up, pulling the blankets down and tucking them under the mattress. She calls Peeta back in, and Peeta rushes over to me so he can hold me tight.

"My news is… Not very good." She says gravely. Fresh tears spring to my eyes and Peeta's grip on me tightens. "Your cervix is completely dilated." She explains. "If there was any way to save the baby before, there's nothing we can do for it now." I look at her wide eyed, I'm not sure that I completely understand what she's telling me.

"You mean… she…" Peeta struggles to find the words to say the one thing none of us want to hear.

"She miscarried." My mother confirms. I bury my face into Peeta's neck and he holds me so close I feel as though I can barely breathe. I can feel his sobs start to shake him, and I let out a broken cry. My mother senses that we need to be alone, and she leaves us to our heartbroken moment together.

"I'm so sorry." Peeta whispers into my hair. I shake my head. What is he sorry for? He hasn't done anything to me. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who betrayed his trust, who essentially cheated on him. "I'm so sorry that I didn't protect you."

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you dare think like that." I feel my breathe shaking as the words come out of my mouth. "This is not your fault." I shake my head, I'm not sure who I'm trying to assure; him or me.

Peeta just holds me closer and kisses my forehead. I can feel his tears drip onto my face, but the last words I hear are "I love you so much, Katniss," before the world falls apart around me.