Communion (On My Knees Duet 3)
The entire building goes quiet as he stands there, still, both hands wrapped around the mic. "It's weird," he says. And I can hear the wobble. The touch of breathlessness he always gets when he's emotional and doesn't want to be. "People don't hate me," he says softly. "And they don't hate you,” he says, and I can tell he’s talking to us rainbow peeps. “They hate what makes them afraid. What makes them question things they thought were stable.”
I can see his shoulders rise and fall, and it takes everything I have to stay back here and not go to him as Luke says, “If you think about the violence that trans women face. I think it goes back to fear. Sizing up the other person. How vulnerable you let yourself be. And if someone surprises you, and you feel threatened, sometimes that can be when violence happens. The root of hate is fear. Violence is fear with legs and a gun.
"Violence is fear that turns to hate and gets into a car and tries to run you over. Just to get control back. The trouble with all this is that it can be hard to help people figure out how to let go of their fear. Fear has deep roots, roots so deep we can’t trace them, and there’s a vast network of those roots; we call that society. And so, these are the problems we have. As a society. As a country. As a world. These are systemic problems. Racism. Sexism. Bigotry.
“The best way to fix them is the same way you offer masses herd immunity to something physical. Inoculate them first. Vaccinate the ones you can. Teach them to recognize what they're seeing, and fight it off. Be sure the new ones born are immune from the start. Teach the children how to love, and what's worth being scared of…and what isn't. I think that's a powerful way forward. We're going to announce initiatives to that effect. Initiatives that Evermore will endeavor to help the world look like we think God wants it to look.”
His voice is shaking now.
I swallow as tears fill my eyes.
"Here are verses you should read." He rattles some off—his voice still trembling slightly. "God is love, you guys. I'm gonna step out."
Luke lifts the mike as if saluting them, and then he's crossing the stage, and then he's through the curtains, and there's a dozen people rushing toward him. And then he's cutting through them, his eyes locked on me. I can see his mouth, the fullness of it—soft, unsteady. I could fall into his burning eyes, and as he gets within arms' length, I can feel the pain all in him.
He near falls against me, locking his arms around me and pushing his face against my throat. I can hear Pearl clearing everybody out from where we are, and then it's only Luke that I feel. How he's leaning on me. How his upper body trembles as he sucks back big breaths, and I'm murmuring, "It's okay, baby... It's okay. I've got you. I love you, and I've got you, my Sky."
I'm aware the backstage area is empty, even as I hear the music from beyond the curtains, signaling the near-end of the service.
I hug him hard, and then I notice an armchair, and I urge him toward it. He shakes his head. "My office," he rasps. He won't look at my face, and I feel a stomach-flip of fear. And then he does, and his eyes are red-rimmed, damp and nearly glowing with emotion.
I wrap my arms around him again, and he hugs me so hard. He holds me that way for a long time, one of his warm hands behind my head, holding my face against his shoulder.
"Sorry," he rasps, struggle breathing with his chest pumping beneath my ear.
I used to tell him don't be sorry, but now I just kiss his hair. "Hugging you is what I live for, baby. This is why I wait in the wings." I've done it ever since people found out about us. Letting him know I literally have his back. That I'm always here.
"Someone's spit...is somewhere on my arm,” he chokes out.
My stomach sinks as I realize that must have been what Asshole Bigot did to get dragged out of the church; he spit on Luke. "Let's go up and take it off,” I tell him. “You've got a spare suit."
"I don't want it," he says. Fuck, his voice is so soft; he sounds broken.
I tighten my grip on him. He's looking down as we start moving down a hall where we might see some people.
"We can do whatever you want, Sky babe."
"Jeans," he says, closing his eyes. Then he looks at me, and he looks miserable. With his head down, he takes my hand and tugs me into the hall. When we start down it, he wraps an arm around my back, holding me close to his side. He says nothing as we walk. It takes more than five minutes to make it to the other side of the building, and we do pass people, but no one dares get close. Luke meets their eyes and holds up a hand in a somber wave when we pass people he knows, but he’s got on armor like I’m not sure I’ve ever seen. He seems emotionless as we move through the big building.