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Summary
He didn’t remember the weatherman calling for rain, and yet, “I can’t see where the jeep is!” He yelled, turning to grapple at Jackson’s arm. One quick step away, and Stiles would be lost to the storm.
“Come on!” Jackson growled back in reply, trying to be louder than the wind and rain as he grabbed Stiles’ hand. It was probably not the right time for Stiles to think of how awkward it was that Jackson linked their fingers together. It’s for survival, Stiles tells himself. He’s not holding hands with Jackson Whittemore.