The next day at school was a blur for Jackson. Albeit, a slow blur. He couldn't remember anything that happened, but he could remember sitting through class after class and that each minute felt like an hour. It didn't seem like the day would end.

After leaving Lydia's the night before, he spent a long time agonizing over his decision, making plans, unmaking them, talking himself into and out of the idea over and over again. Sometime around 5 am, Jackson had settled on just going for it and hoping for the best. He was going through the day exhausted and anxious.

When the day did finally end and Jackson was leaving practice, he found that he might not actually have the heart to do it. What if everything went wrong? What if Stiles ended up just hating him? It might all backfire. The same 'what ifs' and 'maybes' and 'Stiles mights' that he had had the night before.

"Hey, Jackson!" Stiles shouted from behind him. "Wanna hang out? Scott and I were going to go to the movies tonight, but he's got something to do – probably Allison stuff – and, well, it's Friday and I don't want to be stuck by myself, as usual, and I was wondering if maybe you might be doing something?"

A movie with Stiles? Yes.

"Oh, wait, you probably have plans with Lydia? It's Friday night, what would you want to hang out with me for? Maybe you guys can come with me to the movie? You okay with a third wheel? No, probably not. Maybe I should just go home and…read."

"Actually, I don't have plans with Lydia," Jackson said.

Stiles' face brightened. "Great! Let's…"

"I mean, I have something to do right now, but later…when I'm done, I'm free."

"Cool! Okay. Then, I'll see you at the theater later? Unless you don't want to see a movie. That would be weird, wouldn't it? We could just play video games instead."

"No, a movie's fine. Pick something, text me the time. I'll see you later."

Jackson opened his car door, completely elated. A movie with Stiles!

"Hey, Jackson?" Stiles said, grabbing his shoulder.

Heat seemed to come from his hand and seep down into Jackson's arm. "Yeah?"

Stiles leaned in and said quietly, "Would it be weird if I - ? I mean do you think I could…? Would he even…?"

"Who? I don't understand what you're saying, Stiles."

Stiles closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Do you think Derek would come if I invited him?"

Jackson didn't know how to respond. Derek? He would ruin everything. But, he couldn't say that to Stiles.

Stiles opened his eyes, but looked at the ground. "Would it be a stupid idea to try to get him to come along with, like, an invitation to, I don't know, 'get to know Scott's people' or something? Make it look like it's a group thing to help him get on Scott's good side when really I just want to go to a movie with him? Would that be wrong? Would it work?"

He looked at Jackson.

Jackson froze a moment longer. Damn Derek, okay? To hell with Derek. Just go with me.

"He doesn't seem like a 'movie with the guys' kind of a…guy," Jackson finally managed to say.

"Right. You're right. Of course not, what was I thinking?" Stiles said as he stepped back. "Thanks, Jackson. I'll see you later."

Stiles walked away and Jackson sat down in his car, slamming the door closed. That decided it. He was going to do it.

He could still feel Stiles' hand on his shoulder.

Jackson barely noticed driving. Suddenly, he was sitting in his car in the middle of the forest and he didn't really remember getting there. Through the trees, he could just make out the Hale house. He turned the car off, got out, and stood there.

Shit shit. He couldn't do it.

As he turned back to his car, he thought of Stiles. How, just 20 minutes before, he had looked into Stiles' deep, brown eyes and had wished that those eyes were looking soft and nervous for him instead of Derek. How Stiles' hand on his shoulder had felt like security and electricity. How he wanted to go to that movie with Stiles and hold his hand in the dark and share that time with just him.

Do it for Stiles.

Jackson walked quickly through the trees. As the dilapidated house got closer, he started feeling more and more confident. This was going to solve everything.

He didn't even stop when he got to the stairs. He walked straight up them and right to the door. Only then did he hesitate. Knock or go inside? Half the house was falling over. What was the point of knocking? Then again, it was Derek's house. To the best of Jackson's knowledge, the guy lived there.

In the end, he didn't have to do anything to the front door.

"What do you want?" Derek's voice said from behind him.

Jackson turned around with start.

Shit. Derek was in the middle of the front clearing with his arms crossed. His face was cold and hard and his eyes looked like steel. Jackson had somehow forgotten how very large and threatening the guy was. What the hell did Stiles see in him, anyway?

"I need your help."

Derek just looked at him.

Jackson panicked. How could he ask him now? He was just going to sound like a complete idiot. How must he look to this guy?

Say it. Just say it.

"I want to be a werewolf."

That's when McCall stepped into the clearing. "Jackson?"

Of course. Of course this would happen to him. Now, not only did he look like a complete idiot, he had to be one in front of Derek Hale AND Scott McCall.

"What is going on?" McCall asked.

"Your friend wants to join my pack."

"I – No, I…"

"Jackson! You can't!"

Derek gave McCall a hard look. "This does not involve you."

"Yeah, I think it does. I don't care if you're Alpha, he's my friend."

Jackson couldn't help the little snort of derision.

"Sounds like it." Derek even sounded like he was growling when he talked.

"Okay, fine, he's my best friend's friend. Jackson, don't do this."

"Shut up, McCall. It's my decision."

"No," Derek said. "This is my decision."

What the hell? This is Jackson's life, Jackson's decision. What does this guy have any say? Why does McCall have any say? Jackson could see it slipping out of his control.

"Make me a werewolf. It's my right."

Suddenly, Derek was right in front of Jackson.

"No."

Shit. Just that word alone sent a chill down Jackson's spine.

"Derek! Hey, Derek!" Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson saw McCall was trying to pull Derek back. But he didn't move. And Jackson was locked on his eyes. He didn't dare look away.

Derek pushed McCall back. "You do not make this decision for me." His cold eyes flashed red. "I'm the one who has to bite you. I'm the one who has to be responsible for you. And from what I know about you, I don't know if I want to deal with the werewolf version of you. Don't test me. Don't tell me what to do. Don't come back here again without permission. Now, leave," he said the last with a low growl. His eyes were glowing red.

Jackson didn't need to be told twice. He stepped back quickly, turned, and ran. He didn't even care that McCall saw him running like a coward. Or that he stumbled over a root as he left the clearing. He just needed to get away.

At his car, he fell in, slammed the door, and locked it. His heart was racing and he gasped for air.

Jackson couldn't face Derek Hale again. That was it. He didn't need it that badly. He could do without being a werewolf. He didn't even want to try to compete with Derek. Who was, impossibly, the object of Stiles' affection.

His text ringtone suddenly went off, making him jump. Jackson fumbled with the phone, his hands, he noticed with some shame and disgust, were shaking with adrenaline and fear.

The text was from Stiles. '8:15. Limitless.'

Jackson couldn't believe he had almost forgotten about the movie with Stiles.

Stiles. He was the whole reason Jackson had tried this. He was the whole reason Jackson would try it again.

"Shit."

Jackson would try it again for him.

"Damn it, Stiles."

'See you then,' he texted back.