Chapter Text
Steve sat uncomfortably in his father's yellow Cadillac, shifting around to protect his sore body. The buckles, pressing painfully yet delicately into his chest. And each bump on the uneven rode jostled his slim frame.
The car was dead silent, and the air between father and son was tense and uncomfortable. His mother had refused to take this trip with his father and him. Though, Steve wondered if it was due to her disappointment in him or inability to sit in a car with his father for longer than ten minutes alone.
Stefano "Steve" Harrington stared blankly at the space between his legs and glove box of the car. Pushing down his unfavorable emotions and staring at his bag. His bag, singular bag, with only essentials sat uncomfortably between his legs. And he, picked and picked at the strap. Watching the seams unfurl and unraveling as he just picks and picks.
He's watching as his bag seemed to come undone, just like his life. He belatedly realize to some, it would be dramatic. He's been known to be dramatic, complaining about how his parents aren't home. How his father hates him. His mother is a drunk. He is just dramatic. And he just needs to grow up. That's what they all say.
Grow into Manhood, as this little get away would have him believe. Or, as their sister camp would have you believe, Womanhood.
He didn't get it. Maybe it was because he was never smart. He had never gotten it. Not really. He was always a little slow in some areas. A voice was hissing in his ear, maybe that's why you're like this. Steve only closed his eyes, and regulated his breathing. Controlling himself. Just like his parents wanted. Controlled.
But did he really want that?
Didn't matter, he was still being driven up North. He was still packing up his whole life at seventeen. He was still being taken to get "fixed". To be what God desires. And again, a voice, softer and kinder, whispered to him. Is this really what God wants? And he doesn't know. Despite his mother's deep rooted Catholic family, he has never stepped foot into a church.
Steve's breath finally caught in his throat when his dad's car slowed to a stop. All of a sudden, he was cold. His fingers were twitching in his vibrating hands, and he could only watch detatchedly. A spectator in his own body.
He felt as if the woods surrounding them were closing in. Trees never ending and towering up to the heavens to loom over him. Green crowding all who crossed into that little building. Like soldiers marching you to your execution.
A meaty hand clapped onto his shoulder, painfully ripping him back into his panicking body. Demanding his attention, and so he gave it. He looked up at his father, he was wrinkled with pepper salt hair. And despite his internal panic, he had known enough to not look his father in the eye. Not to look into the predators eyes, not to fight a dominance battle he had lost many times before.
"Son, I am doing this for your own good. This, this *thing*, you are doing. It is merely a phase, no. An illness. I'm trying to save you from yourself. You are confused, you think you want this, my son. Trust me, after this you'll thank me. Now, get your bag." Steve nodded dumbly, following his father out of the car as the older man stepped toward a cabin like building. As he followed behind, he glanced around the thick forest. Isolated.
When he stepped into the one story cabin there was a short woman with fried brown hair who smiled eagerly at him. Behind her stout frame stood a man wearing a blue shirt and khaki shorts. He was an older man with grey hair who smiled at him mutely as the woman moved to introduce herself.
"Hello! I'm Sharlene, and I aid in running Personal Growth Rehab. This is my partner, Micheal." Her voice was high yet soothing, she gave off an energy that she would complain about you to your employer, Steve thought faintly.
He shook her hand and read what her pink shirt said, 'Aiding in Growing into Womanhood!'. His heart began to race, and when he saw Michael's near identical one, only with a change of Manhood, he wanted to cry.
It was all crashing down onto him. This was real. His parents were really going to leave him, in the middle of nowhere to "fix" him. And after all the bars he's went to. All the men he's met. The warnings and horror stories about conversion camp he was given and had passed off. Thinking, oh it would never happen to me. And it was, that is where he ended up. Conversion camp.