As soon as your feet touched the sand you were running. You shoved past the Fundamentalists and followers until Stilgar grabbed your arm.

"I don't think you want to see-" the leader began.

"Take me to him," you begged. Stilgar sighed. He'd always had a hard time saying no to you. When he led you into the temple your knees nearly buckled. Paul was laid out on a sheet with his eyes closed. When you collapsed beside him and started running your fingers through his curls, you realized there was no warm breath. The heartbeat that you loved had fallen silent.

"He is alive," you heard her voice. That cold, clinical voice. You'd liked Jessica at first, but now that she was Reverend Mother you found her insufferable. Spreading propaganda and forcing her ideals onto Paul.

"What did you do to him?" you screamed at her. You couldn't cry, you couldn't waste your water even for Paul. So you directed all your grief into your voice.

"You are part of the prophecy," Jessica insisted, not answering you. "You know what you must do."

"You killed him! You killed your son. You fix it yourself!"

"Do it."

As soon as she used The Voice, it was over. Your body moved without your permission. Precious tears slipped down your cheeks and you wiped them. Your fingers brushed Paul's lips, wetting them with your sorrow.

Then his eyes opened.