Batmom & Batfamily Imagines [2]

(more than) good enough || Jason Todd

Warning(s): uhh, self-doubt, depression and stuff like that.

A/N: oookay, so pardon this self-indulgent fic but I need it to cope with my self-hate right now.
I'm sure I'm not the only one going through this bullcrap :'>

Reader's going through some stuff and (a soft) Jason is there to help.

Enjoy!

::

They did it again they compared you to other people again.

It should be your normal day-off from the stressful work days, opposite of what you were doing right now. Watching TV had never gone so much wrong and now you remembered why you always locked yourself in your room.

Your parents just couldn't stop blabbering about other people's successful children on TV that they were paid handsomely at their work that they did such a good job many people recognized them and they couldn't stop telling you to do better.

"Look at her," your mom said, she was pointing at the TV where a teen was interviewed for her success, she was smiling widely. You knew where this was going you just knew it, your eyes felt hot with tears you tried to miserably hold back, jaw clenched to not snap at her. "She's barely 15 and she makes her parents proud in such a young age with her achievements. You're almost 20, [name], look at you sitting here doing nothing."

You buried your face further in your blankets trying to hide from the world, room dark only lit by the dim moonlight through your window.

You had worked hard too, right? Even when the crippling depression was haunting you along with the familiar feeling of worthlessness buzzing in your brain,

Am I not good enough? Am I even allowed to lie on this bed?

At that thought, you immediately sat up like the mattress was made of hot coals, kicking the sheets and pillows away before you get down, sitting at the edge of the room, curling into yourself. You could hear your stomach growling, you hadn't eaten anything since that afternoon and you just finished your chores when your parents ruined your day.

God, you were hungry, famished.

You couldn't bring yourself to go to the kitchen. Every time you did you'd always stop and walked back to your room.

'No,' the monster in your head said, 'you can't eat. They'll be mad. You didn't make enough to eat.' When you tried to cook your own food, it echoed the same thing. 'You can't use those. Those are not yours.'

You whimpered as your stomach growled once more. You couldn't even bring yourself to get that bread you bought yesterday on lunch-break it was sitting there on the dining table.

"Ugh," you groaned, more tears streaming down your face. You wanted to punch your stomach for being hungry or your face to stop the waterworks.

You were too wallowed in yourself pity to notice your unlocked window was opened, unaware to the cold breeze getting into your room, creeping into your skin through the thin sleepwear.

"Babe?" that familiar, deep and distorted voice of your boyfriend came from in front of you. The silent thudding of his boots against your floor stopping as you heard a rustling of clothing, his shadow loomed over you. "Hey."

He was the last person you wanted to see. He couldn't see you like this, not now, not when you looked like a... you didn't even know what you looked like right now. Your hair definitely messy, face tears streaked, you must've looked really snotty too.

Oh dear.

A soft click was muffled by your sobbing, you assumed he was getting his helmet off, putting it somewhere nearby before he lifted your face. You resisted, screwing your eyes shut as you shook your head but he was quick to cup your face with both of his gloved hands.

"Look at me," his voice was soothing, getting your stubborn strands of hair away from your damp face.

"No."

He didn't push, instead, he slowly scooted closer. One of his hands left your face to wrap around your shoulders, bringing you to his chest—his trademark leather jacket brushing against your ear.

During the few minutes of silence, he had placed you in his lap. He could only guess what had happened to you, he noticed you were slowly losing weight and when he brought you on a dinner date, you only stared at the menu and ended up ordering a drink then insisted that you'd pay.

"Jason?"

Judging from your voice, or the lack thereof, you hadn't drunk any water. Your throat must be hurting, he would've fussed over you had it not been in the middle of the night. He only planned to check on you, to see if you were safe but your trembling figure said otherwise.

"Yeah?" he rubbed your back.

"Am I-- am I good enough for you?"

"Yes," he was quick to answer. His heart wrenched at the sight of your face, you looked so fragile. He was almost afraid to touch you, the way he touched the dark circles underneath your eye with his thumb was hesitant as if you would crumble if he pressed too hard. "What is it all about?"

You didn't answer, "really?"

It didn't take long for him to put two and two together then realize what this was all about. Oh, he had been there alright, he had been in your position, that feeling of worthlessness was suffocating. When Bruce replaced him, he had doubted himself and look where it got him. But he was content with his life currently.

"Really," when you finally cracked a smile, he released the breath he had been holding. His shoulders slumped against the wall behind him as he smirked back down at you. "Even if right now you looked like shit, you'll always be more than good enough for me."

Pinch.

Your little pinch on his bicep didn't hurt him but he humored you anyway by faking a flinch which you noticed and you settled with squeezing his face between your hands instead.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered, releasing his reddening face so he could rub it to soothe the slight sting.

"Was going to take embarrassing pictures of you but then I see my baby looking miserable in the corner of the room for some reason I didn't know about yet," your sheepish smile was so cute. "Are you ready to tell me now?"

"It's my parents," he raised a perfect eyebrow, indicating you to continue. "Well, they--"

The loudest, nastiest, most inhumane growling came from the monstrosity you called stomach and in an instant, your face was flushed a deep red.

He was amused, beyond amused.

"Seems like we're going on a date tonight."

"Wait, like, now?"

"Yep," he simply grunted as he brought both of you to your feet, "go get dressed, we're riding on my bike and wear this."

He handed you his red mask, you stared at it in awe, feeling the materials with your fingertips. "Oh. My. God. I'm going to be Red flippin' Hood tonight."

"Do what you want tonight babe, do what you want."

::

*Homer Simpson's grunt* D'OH!

All I need is sum love and a tight, tight hug to make the monsters go away XD