icebox - there for tomorrow.
First of all, it's Lydia. He works as hard as he can to piss her off. She eventually blows up in his face and tells himself just where he can stick his dick.
Next, it's Danny. He's reluctant to do this, but he has to. He makes a few derogatory comments about gays while Danny's around and that's all it takes. Really, he'd have thought it would take more to get Danny off his back. Maybe he should be upset that Danny didn't try to make it work, but he can't bring himself to care.
Allison is the third person. Maybe, he thinks, he can sort out Scott at the same time. He acts like a complete douchebag to Scott, while Allison is around, and openly flirts with her as well. When she tells him to fuck off, he doesn't care.
He doesn't bother trying to alienate Derek. The man hates him anyway. There's no point. And his little puppies don't like him either.
No one on the lacrosse team, other than Danny, ever really liked him, so he doesn't bother with them. They all pretend to like him, pretend that they are friends with him, to get into his pants, so to speak. Not literally, more like piggybacking into the world of the rich.
His parents are never around much. They're always off at some exotic conference or another. They don't have any time for Jackson. Normally, he finds himself getting pissed off at them because of this, but, right now, he's grateful for it.
He finds the gun, filled with bullets, in his father's desk drawer. It's for emergencies only, but he thinks that this must constitute as an emergency. He goes into his room and flicks the safety catch of the gun. He puts it in his mouth, pointed upwards so as to blow out his brains, and fingers the trigger. There is a frantic knocking at the door. He tries to ignore it. The knocking continues, fast and loud. He throws the gun onto his bed and goes downstairs to open the door.
It's Stilinski standing in his doorway. Jackson is surprised, but at the same time, kicking himself for forgetting to alienate him. Of all people, why Stilinski? Why does he have to forget the one person who could piece it all together? "Don't do it," Stilinski says, breathlessly. "Don't, please. I know what you're trying to do. Killing yourself isn't going to solve anything."
"It'll get rid of the kanima," Jackson says.
"But it will also get rid of you," Stiles says, pleading. "Please, don't do this."
"It's not like anyone would care," Jackson says, harshly. More harshly than he needs to and he can see from Stilinski's face that this statement has hurt.
"That's not true," he says, softly. "I care." And this is what makes Jackson break down. Not the pleading, but the simple admission of caring. Stiles says nothing, he just takes Jackson in his arms and holds him. Jackson grasps at the back of Stiles' shirt, bunching the chequered material up in fists, while he sobs onto Stiles' shoulder.
They sit in Jackson's room. Jackson has taken the gun and placed it back in his father's desk. Stiles watched him do so. "So," Stiles says. "Did you just forget about me, or did you purposefully not break it off with me?" How can Jackson tell him that he didn't want to go out on bad terms with Stiles, of all people? How can Jackson explain to Stiles how much he affects him, how fast his heart pumps when he looks at him. Like he is now. "I didn't want to die with you hating me and knowing that I had made you hate me on purpose." Oh, Jackson, he thinks, you've put your foot in it now. Stiles looks at him.
"I don't think I could ever hate you," he says. "Maybe I could be angry at you, I could think you're a total douchebag, but I could never hate you." Jackson almost sobs with relief. It must show on his face. Stiles smiles. He finds Jackson's hand and laces his fingers through Jackson's. A smile cracks across Jackson's face, the first in a long time.
Stiles stays the night. He calls the sheriff and says that a friend needs some moral support. The sheriff doesn't ask. Jackson gets his good night's sleep in a while. He kisses Stiles in the morning. Stiles is pleasantly surprised, and Jackson feels lighter than he has in weeks.