[Author's note: I'm going slightly off cannon here because I think Katniss is more maternal than she thinks. She mothered Prim, after all! Of course, no disrespect to the great Suzanne Collins intended.]

(Point of View: Dr. Aurelius)

Peeta was worried about Katniss. I was too. Both of them had problems, but Peeta never seemed to completely give in to them. Katniss occasionally did.

"She just can't get past it." Peeta told me. "I wish I hadn't made it so clear that I wanted kids. If I'd known there was any kind of problem beyond her being hesitant, I would never have pressured her at all."

I believed him.

"Does she talk about it?" I asked

"Sometimes. She apologizes to me. How crazy is that?" He said sadly.

"Does she want to try to get pregnant?" I asked, hoping she didn't.

"No, not right now anyway." He said.

Peeta sighed, "What should I do?"

"Do what you do best Peeta. Be supportive. Remind her that life is not as bleak as she thinks it is."

(Point of View: Peeta)

I kept telling Katniss, "The doctor didn't say you couldn't have a baby. He just said you might need some help."

That didn't matter though. Katniss still thought that she was "damaged." Sometimes comforting her was impossible. I felt that she was slipping away from me.

"I'm not the wife I want to be." She'd say, "I'm not the wife you deserve."

I'd shake my head and tell her how I loved her. It didn't matter. She was convinced that her way of thinking was the truth. I was convinced that this was about way more than whether or not she could have a baby.

The mornings seemed to be the hardest for her. If I hadn't promised anyone I'd bake for them, I'd just lie in bed beside her. I'd hold her hand because she didn't seem to like being held any other way in the mornings. Holding her hand made me feel like she couldn't physically slip away even if she was in another world emotionally. We rarely made love, and when we did she cried afterwards. When I asked her why she was crying, she'd say it was because it felt good. That made no sense to me. I thought of her giggling the morning after our wedding, and I wished that I could hear her giggle again. As I felt more distant from her, my memories from the tracker jacker torture and prison bothered me more. On my worst days, I didn't even have the capacity to try to comfort Katniss. She certainly wasn't able to comfort me in her state of mind. I distracted myself though. During the day, I'd bake and paint. I worked with other residents on the reconstruction efforts too.

One evening when I returned home Katniss was sitting in the rocking chair by the fire. She had a blanket pulled over her all the way up to her shoulders. I thought of that phone call from Haymitch, the one that motivated me to work so hard to get back to district 12…

"She's not eating. She never leaves the house. We can't even get her to bathe. She barely speaks some days…" He'd said.

How are things any different now? I thought.

I realized that she hadn't moved when I came in, and I suddenly felt the need to make sure she was breathing. I rushed over and slipped the blanket down to her lap. I held my breath until I saw her chest rise and fall. Grateful, I got down on my knees and laid my head on the blanket. She stirred and touched my hair.

"Peeta." She said weakly. "When did you get home?"

"Just now. Did you eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry." She said. She ran her fingers through my hair a few times.

I looked up at her. Her gray eyes were dull and sad.

"Please don't do this again." I said.

"Do what again?" She asked.

"Give up." I was having trouble swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

She looked away.

"I need to give up. You need to give up on me too, Peeta." She said.

"I'm never going to do that." I said.

"Why not? I know I'm not going to make it. It's just like in the games when you knew you weren't going to make it." She said.

"But I did make it!"

"Only because we cheated, Peeta."

"So cheat." I said. "Survive even though you shouldn't be able to survive!"

"It's too late. I'm too tired." She said.

I pulled away from her a bit.

"Katniss, how can you say that?" I nearly yelled. "I can't watch you do this."

"You don't have to watch it. You can leave. Everybody leaves. I understand."

I lifted her chin to make her look at me, "Katniss, I know what it's like to give up. I know you don't think I do, but I do. When I'd recovered enough to know how insane I'd been in District 13, I never wanted to be that way again. I knew I would be that way again, at least to some degree. And that's been true. I have flashbacks and nightmares so often. Sometimes you know it, and sometimes you don't. I know they aren't going to go away. It's a struggle every single day. But I get better at dealing with it. I get help. I talk to people. I even take medicine. And I've come to believe that my struggle is basically a struggle for hope."

I was quiet for a moment. She was listening. Somehow I was getting through.

I kept my voice quiet but firm. "Things can get better. They can always get better. It doesn't matter how much we've lost. It doesn't matter how bad things have gotten, they can get better. I think you've lost sight of hope, Katniss. I want you to hold on to mine until you have some again. Can you do that…for me?

"I think that is kind of like cheating…stealing your hope." She said quietly.

"You're not stealing it. I'm giving it to you." I said.

She stared back at me. She pressed her lips together, and I could almost see her thinking.

"I'll…I'll try, Peeta." She said.

I moved close to her again and wrapped my arms around her. Then I helped her up gently.

"Let's start with getting you something to eat and then maybe I can help you get a bath." I said.

She nodded but closed her eyes as if even the idea of doing anything exhausted her.

It was a long night.

(Point of View: Katniss)

Peeta was right. If history was any indication, this deep sadness was going to keep happening to me over and over again. Peeta wanted me to call Dr. Aurelius, so I did. I'd always approached conversations with Dr. Aurelius with reservations, but this time I was very honest with him. I listened to everything he told me. When he made recommendations, I followed them. He encouraged me to keep doing the little things that I needed to do every day. He said that eventually I'd see the value of them again. He was right. Slowly, small pleasures started to come back into my life. Peeta accidentally burning loaf bread made me smile. Haymitch chasing the goslings he was raising out of my yard made me laugh. Whenever Peeta saw my face light up he'd kiss me and tell me how beautiful I was. It took a long time to get completely well again, nearly a year in all. I did hold on to Peeta's hope, and eventually I re-gained some of my own.

(Point of View: Peeta)

One night as I was painting, Katniss sat down in the chair next to the easel. She swung her body sideways, hanging her legs over one arm of the chair and resting her back on the other. She gave me a mischievous smile.

"What are you doing?" I said happily, smiling back.

"I'm interrupting you." She said as she kicked her feet slightly. She still had no idea what she did to me.

"It's working." I said putting aside my work carefully.

I moved to the edge of the chair and kissed her lips softly. She looked at my hands, which were a little stained from the paint. Then her gray eyes looked into mine with a deep tenderness that I couldn't place. I'd never seen that look before.

"I love you, Peeta." She whispered.

I nodded. "I love you too. So much."

"And…I want to have a baby with you," she said. "I want to at least try."

I was quiet. I really didn't know what to say. Of course, I was happy that she felt that way, but I knew she might not be ready to get pregnant. She might not be well enough. How in the world could I tell her that though? She had come so far.

Maybe I should just let this happen, I thought. After all, we probably won't get pregnant.

"I know I can do it now; I can be a good mother. You just have to help me."

She was melting my heart. She never said things like that about herself.

"Yes, you willbe a great mother." I said gently.

I put a stray hair from across her forehead behind her ear.

"Make love to me." She said.

It was hard to resist her when she was so clear about her feelings on a matter.

It will be alright. I thought. She will be alright.

I picked her up from the chair and carried her to our room. It wasn't very hard to do, but I think she thought it was very romantic. She smiled widely as I laid her down in the bed. It was probably our most passionate night together to that point. A shared goal made us closer somehow.

"Do you think we made a baby tonight?" I said afterwards.

"We'll know in 2 to 4 weeks. Don't get too excited though. It's just as likely that it'll be 10 years before we make a baby!" She replied.

I chuckled. "It's going to be alright." I said.

"Yes, it is." She giggled.