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Jackson doesn’t want to be here. If no one will give him what he wants, why should he have to do what they want? If he were a werewolf he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit. People would listen to him, once and for all. He takes another swig of gin because he’s cool, because he’s capable of making his own decisions, because he’s so fucking scared he’ll take whatever courage he can get.
///
I’m going to enjoy myself. I’m going to smile, and I’m going to enjoy myself. Maybe if she repeats it enough times, she’ll convince herself it’s true. Forget about Jackson, drowning his anger in alcohol. Don’t frown because someone could be falling in love with your smile. She can do this. And when she sees the lone figure on the roof, Allison actually believes it, too.
///
Stiles is not normally suave, but somehow he’s ended up at Winter Formal with the girl he’s been crushing on since the 3rd grade, so he’s going to try even if it kills him. Exiting the car doesn’t go smoothly. Given that Lydia isn’t paying any attention to him, however, he doesn’t consider this a major hiccup. By the end of the night he’ll get her to look at him and finally see him.
“Well, I think you look beautiful,” he says, and it’s a good start. Hey, maybe he should be concise more often (but then Derek won’t shove you against walls, whispers his batshit insane mind) – the way Lydia smiles at him in return just about makes his life.
///
For the most popular girl at Beacon Hills High, arriving at Winter Formal in a battered Jeep with a hyperactive spaz might seem like a major setback. For Lydia, however, it’s nothing she can’t handle. Jackson’s indifference hurts (you’re just about the deadest), but again. It’s under control.
Still, she lets herself appreciate Stiles’s honest praise and adoring eyes. Ruling the world and being a teenage girl aren’t mutually exclusive, after all.
///
The flashing lights and pounding music suit Scott’s mission as he scans the crowd. Jackson & co., check. Coach Finstock, check. Peter Hale, che—Well, shit. But the Alpha is gone faster than Scott can say “Allison” (which is pretty fast), so our fearless protagonist continues on. Stiles and Lydia, check. Allison and Jackson, check. Scott frowns when he sees Allison’s own upset face. He can’t decide if he’s happy that Jackson, for all his bravado, is not a real challenge for Allison’s affection, or if he’s sad that Allison’s sad. He never wants Allison to be sad. Scott doesn’t care what it takes; he’ll prove his love. Mine, his wolf growls, and for once Scott is in agreement.
///
Jackson doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to dance, but he also doesn’t want Allison to be sad. McCall was right: he does care about her in his own weird way. Plus, even though the sad excuse for a werewolf couldn’t be here, Jackson can take a little pleasure from dancing with his girl. He’ll consider it his compensation for McCall getting him into this mess in the first place.
///
It’s not that Allison particularly wants to dance with Jackson, but standing around awkwardly really isn’t helping either of them. Jackson needs to stop drinking, Allison needs to stop waiting for Scott to appear, and dancing seems like the obvious solution. She can almost feel Scott’s disapproval, but she shrugs it off. She can’t live her life confined to what Scott wants, or thinks is best, or tells her to do. But, pops unbidden into her mind, and she doesn’t quite know how to finish that thought, so she doesn’t.
///
Aaaand Stiles is back in prime form, words coming out of him (where do they all come from?) and Lydia’s finally seeing him and he just keeps going and are those tears? He thinks it’s working, emotion making him more coherent rather than less. When Lydia cuts him off the words dry up, but it’s ok, they’ve done their job. Oh my god I’m going to dance with Lydia Martin, be cool man, be cool, ok one extravagant gesture of enthusiasm, ok be cool.
///
Lydia may have agreed to go with Stiles to the dance to appease Allison for her admittedly bitchy move, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to actively interact with him. He keeps talking and she’s going to tune him out as she usually does – as she has done since the 3rd grade – but this time she can’t. This time, she recognizes in him something of herself. She hides her intelligence behind a wall of damsel-in-distress; he hides his behind his loud mouth and crazy ideas. He knows her, somehow, like she’s never let anyone know her before. Well, this certainly is a night for revelations.
///
Scott takes a moment out of his brooding to cheer for his best friend. He knows he hasn’t been that good to Stiles lately, prioritizing his own problems. But they’ve been pretty big problems, ok, being a teen wolf is not easy. Like, school is so hard.
As if on cue, Coach Finstock spots him.
///
Godfuckingdammit, Finstock thinks. Can teenage boys really not keep it in their pants? Ok, Finstock gives that question up as dumb. But can’t McCall at least see that a state championship should be prioritized over whatever girl he may be meeting here in the gym under some flashing lights surrounded by other sweaty teenagers having fits (this is not dancing) to some awful beat (this is not music)? A state championship!
Fuck you, hormones, fuck you very much, Finstock curses as he chases after his star player and worst student ever.
///
Scott is enjoying his newfound flashes of “ingenuity,” as Peter calls it. (I think that’s the word…?) Does being a werewolf make you smarter, too? Scott has to admit that’s probably not it. Whatever, he’s totally smart. Asking Danny to dance? Genius.
///
Danny is nonplussed when Scott approaches him with crazy eyes and crazy words, and no, he will not just dance with any random guy just because he likes cock. He’s not some litmus test for gay, whatever that Stiles kid may think. Why does this keep happening to him? Danny wants nothing to do with Big Gay Crises; one was enough to last him a lifetime. Maybe if they just came up to him like normal people, instead of with their “Do you find me attractive?”s and “Dance with me!”s, he might be more helpful.
Oh, he thinks, as Coach sputters in a combination of speechless embarrassment and anger. Monday practice is going to suck. At least his date’s hot.
///
Godfuckingdammit, Finstock thinks. I fucking quit.
///
Ok, Scott, you got this, she’s smiling, you have your mother’s advice, your pants are sewed together, it’s gonna be awesome. He approaches Allison. Remember your words, ok, you got this.
///
There’s only so much a girl can take. Scott engineers a frankly awesome stunt, and while Allison’s long since accepted that maybe he’s not the smartest cookie, it’s always nice to see proof to the contrary. His face crinkles and lights up when she preemptively agrees to dance with him, and, well, if her heart melts a little that’s for her to know.
///
Jackson is fucking done with this farce of a date. He is also really, really wasted. That’s ok. Failure hurts less this way.
When he sees the two red lights, all he can think is, Maybe this time I’ll be brave.
///
Slow dancing with Stiles feels safe. He’s holding her as if she’s something precious, but it makes her restless, caged. Jackson may not see her in the way Stiles does, but they… understand each other. And she understands, right now, that not seeing Jackson is a Very Bad Sign. She feels slightly bad for ditching Stiles, but she’s fairly sure he has someone else.
She may tune out his words, but she still notices that his attention towards her has waned, just a little, since the strange things started happening in Beacon Hills. Lydia will be sure to investigate (manipulate) later, but for now she must find Jackson.
///
Stiles knows he shouldn’t be hurt when Lydia pulls away, but he is. It’s not the sharp pain it might have once been, however, and isn’t that interesting. It’s more like the dull ache of knowing that a constant in his life has suddenly stopped being a constant. His unrequited crush on Lydia has been resolved – not in the way that he wanted, but hey, it’s closure, and that’s better than nothing.
He’s not thinking about why he’s not totally devastated, and he’s definitely not thinking about a certain tall, dark, and handsome werewolf, no he is not.
///
“I wanna be one of you,” he pleads, and isn’t that the perfect summary of his life.
“Unfortunately, Jackson, I don’t think I can give you want you want,” returns the voice of Chris Argent, and that too is the perfect summary of his life. What’s a Porsche compared to one family’s abandonment and another’s inability to say three simple words?
Even the fear and the alcohol can’t drown out his overwhelming sense of failure – he was wrong, as he always is. The failure doesn’t hurt less.
///
Scott can use his words. Ok, so his first attempt wanders off on a bit of an anecdotal tangent, but Allison seems to take it in stride. Allison’s great like that, when she laughs softly and ducks her head, smiling up at him. “I love your smile,” he says, and it’s not perfect, but he’s getting there.
///
Things are looking up in Allison’s life. “I love your smile” is Scott’s baby step to “I love you,” she knows it.
But then he brings up their earlier conversation, and she has a moment of blind panic and she’s in the room again with Derek’s screams echoing before she can respond.
“Forget about that,” she says, followed by “Trust me,” leaving the You don’t want to know unspoken.
///
“You promise you won’t hurt him?” Jackson tries to make it sound like a threat, but both he and the hunter know it’s not.
Jackson heads back to the dance. Maybe this time I’ll be brave.
///
“Jackson!” Lydia’s voice cracks out, full of anger and fear and so much emotion she doesn’t even know how to do deal with it all.
For all that Stiles is comforting and safe, Jackson is… something. She’s not sure what, but he’s hers, and she will get him back.
///
Scott gives up on words and goes for what he knows: kissing Allison. But he trusts his mother’s advice, so he tries.
“Because I love you.”
And then there’s more kissing. Maybe he should listen to his mother more often.
///
When he runs into Jackson who hasn’t seen Lydia either, Stiles is pretty sure something bad is happening, and his inner Derek growly voice (and when did he get one of those?) is telling him to stay put and stay safe. Obviously this means go out and face the danger. He looks forward to Derek pushing him up against the wall later in punishment.
(…He has got to stop fantasizing thinking about that. At least Scott hasn’t noticed yet, trusting Stiles’s words and not calling him out on his bluffs. Scott isn’t all that perceptive, and Stiles is pretty ok with that in this case.)
Time to go show the world how awesome Stiles really is.
///
Be brave, Jackson, he thinks, deep breaths, Stiles will know what to do. He can’t stop his voice from breaking or his words from running together. Be brave.
///
Lydia can’t shake the feeling that something is deeply wrong.
Turns out she should’ve trusted her instincts. She notes this in absent sort of way, just before the panic and the pain set in and the world turns black.
///
Peter isn’t quite sure what to make of this human. He’s clearly not physically dominant, but he stands up to the Alpha, and nobody does that. Peter has to resort to his scary voice to get anywhere with this boy, who cares for this girl, like she’s his pack, even though Peter knows how she treats him.
“You’re the clever one,” Peter says, and he’s right. Intriguing.
///
Derek is going to kill him. But that would ok, because that means Derek would be alive, and Stiles is not accepting any other possibility. It’s fine, it’s ok, he’ll think his way out of this as he always does.
And afterwards, maybe he’ll tell Derek…
…Nah, he’s had enough near-death experiences. Derek can figure it out for himself.
Now to go figure out how to reverse-GPS a phone.
///
Scott’s on cloud nine, but his Allison-induced euphoria dims as he takes in their surroundings.
When the hunters close in on him, Scott takes a moment to curse his ingenuity for abandoning him in his time of need (maybe he’s used up his quota for the month?), before leaping out of the way.
Well, this is as good a time as any to let Allison know she’s dating a werewolf.
///
Fuck my life, thinks Allison.