Jason Weiser

I took the name of Pedro to honor the man that I loved.

I won't let him die like this.

In a dungeon, falsely accused, the figure rose and turned, reaching back under the shirt and unwrapping something.

It went a few times and Doña turned.

Ren had been so absorbed in the thought and anguish at personally executing the only truly good person he had ever known, that he only barely caught the first part of what the prisoner had said.

Wait, the man you loved?

That-

put a wrinkle in some... He looked at the prisoner and noticed some contours of Pedro's body that seemed different now.

Wait, Pedro was... Doña.

My name is Doña, she said.

Ren flew to Doña, wrapped his arms around her and, weeping, both begged for her forgiveness and thanked God.

After a couple of reluctant pats,

Danya returned his hug.

She had bought her freedom with the truth, but feared that, now that Danya had returned, trouble and death would follow.

Danya was wrong.

For as weirdly thirsty as all the other men in Danya's life were, things between her and Ren were wonderful.

Danya was his friend and confidant, and he seemed renewed by the idea that yes, Danya was everything he hoped.

It's like when the comic XKCD posted about Mr. Rogers getting in a fight with his wife on a hot mic in 1981 and the revealing audio being them talking through their disagreement and reaffirming just how special they felt the other person to be.

The joke that I'm totally ruining was that you peel away the layers to this man who advocated patience and decency and you find patience and decency.

Donya was the only person Ren could talk to about his feelings about religion.