"nerd" || sinclair brothers x F reader

~rebrand yourself~

TW: sh scars and Stockholm syndrome

It'd been about six months, since the trial. I stood stupidly at the boarder of the town that had sent me to a mental hospital just months prior. I felt a pull to it, almost as if I couldn't stay away from it.
I staggered back to the house that haunted me.

His voice, his stupid fucking voice. It echoed in my brain as I could only imagine what he'd say to me, do to me.

"Oh darlin'.. I've seen a lot of people do a lot of dumbass things, but this? This is the dumbest thing I think I ever done seen anyone do."

Or maybe instead he'd pity me, offer me a false comfort before he killed me.

Noah and Finn flashed in my mind; my mom and dad too. They all treated me like I was some fragile thing.

If I died going back, I'd die proving I wasn't fragile.

When I stood infront of the house again, the house with the porch that was mostly rotting wood, the house with the welcome mat which had faded over the years of rain so now it only had the letters wlcm left on it.

My hand shakily knocks.

The door opens, and I'm met with his face. He can see the weakness in it, and I'm not even sure why I stumble into his arms. Gripping desperately at his shirt.

"You came back." He says, dumbfounded.

"I came back." I repeated. Tears brimmed my eyes, as I gripped tighter; almost like he was some sort of life line. As if I owed him something for keeping my life stable when he was the one who ruined it in the first place. I had dreamed of being an astronomer.

And now I was all but a dying star, floating through the space of the harm his family caused me.

He grips my wrist, in an attempt to ground me; but all it does it make his eyes widen as he can feel the scars I inflicted on myself months prior. By now, they were pink, and faded but he knew what they were. He wasn't stupid.

"Darlin'- I know good fuckin' well you didn't-" he sounds concerned, but he cuts himself off at the distraught look in my eye. He pulls me inside. He doesn't lock the door this time. This time, I am not a prisoner.

This time, I am not a dying star.

This time I am in his arms.

I am rebranded, and I will be a new person.
My family didn't help me, they didn't.

They took me away from him.
They sent me to a hospital.
The court claimed there wasn't enough proof.
They sent me away.

Now I'll never go away again.

I'll stay here.
and I'll be safe.

"Just breathe." Bo says. The house smelt like wax. Vincent was in the basement working.

"I'm sorry I've been gone-" I apologize. As if he deserved it.

"Shh.. shh, you'll be fine."

He cradled my head into his chest, his hands calloused and rough with the crimes and blood he had shed and left a trail of red on his name.

But he cradled me none the less.

(A/N guess what, it's off hiatus, also might rewrite old chapters because of how much my writing style has changed, let me know how you guys would feel about me doing that!!)