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Sam was never a big weed user, but after moving to California and finding out there was a dispensary near the new house he figured fuck it, what Rafe don't know won’t hurt him. He'd smoked weed before as a teenager and through to his late twenties, but since stopped after being pulled over at an intersection.
This went down in Michigan, where was pretty sure weed was legal. But it was the moment he saw those red and blue lights he thought, "But how legal?" Like as in was this some Rules for Three but Not For Me type shit. The cop came to his window and knocked, "Guess I'm gonna find out how legal?"
"You have any idea why I pulled you over tonight, sir?" The officer asked, shining a bright light in Sam's face.
"No, sir." Sam replied, acting as cool as possible.
"You rolled straight through that stop sign back there." The officer caught a glimpse of the bag of weed sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. "Are you high, son?"
Sam huffed, "Officer," He started, letting out a nervous laugh, "You've never smoked weed before have you?" He paused as if waiting for a response from the cop. "'Cause if I was high, I wouldn’t have gone through that stop sign- I would’ve stopped fifty feet before it." And he knew this to be a fact because he had done that before. Pulled up at least a good forty feet before the sign, got out of his car, walked up to it and stood there for a whole minute just shaking his head and thinking "Busy, busy tonight."
But more to the point, that experience with the officer scared him off weed for good. Despite nothing even happening.
So, once the house had finally been set up and resembled a livable space, Sam headed down to the dispensary. He loved the idea that weed is legal in Cali, for both medicinal and recreational purposes. He was using it for the latter, much to his husband's disapproval. Rafe had never liked the use of recreational cannabis for all the typical reasons. "It's a gateway drug." "It impairs on your focus" "It's expensive" and so on. But despite his dislike for the drug, he believed that Sam was an adult capable of making his own decisions. "Just keep it the fuck away from Avery!" Were his exact words.
Sam browsed along the options displayed on the walls and decided to try his luck in another isle. But what he saw instantly made him curse the legal age of cannabis in the state.
"Hey man!" Sam jeered.
"Oh, hey Dad." Avery awkwardly replied.
"Buddy, what are you doing here?" He snorted, "And how the fuck did you get your medical license with your father noticing?" He mentally added.
"Uh, I think the same thing you’re doing." He retorted, putting his wallet away. "What're you doing?" Gesturing towards his pocket.
"Well, you’re here. You’re buying right?" Avery said without an ounce of shame in his face. Sam was flabbergasted, but not lost for words. "Hey, we didn’t just get back from your baseball game, bud. This isn’t Baskin-Robbin’s, I’m not buying you three scoops of OG kush, asshole!" Dumbass kid clearly didn't know how shit works around here.
Sam grabbed a couple edibles and waiting in the car after offering Avery a ride home, making a pact on the way home not to tell Rafe about any of this. He got home and hid the edibles in his office drawer, somewhere Rafe never looked, so he could easily go and get high, either in his brand new office or anywhere in the house, assuming Rafe wasn’t home. However, when Sam went to get one. He couldn’t help but notice something was wrong…
He was on the phone to Elena and she heard him cursing under his breath. "What's up?" She asked. "Av's taken one of my edibles."
"How do you know it was him."
That comment made him scoff, "You clearly don’t do drugs." He joked. Take Sully for example? When the boys were growing up, Sully took Xanax like a fucking champion. He knew exactly how many bars he had in that little bottle and everyone in the house knew when something of his had been messed with coz he'd be standing over them like, "Which one of you moved that, who the fuck moved it."
"Hey, El. Can I call you back. I got sort this out now." He said and hung up. He had no doubt in his right mind that Avery was responsible for the missing drugs, because he wasn’t fucking stupid. Thing is, however, Sam got the 175mg edibles, but Avery was a first timer so he would’ve only needed 70mg. So basically, kid's gonna be fucked. But at least he wouldn’t have to look far.
Sam goes upstairs to Avery's bedroom and knocks.
And knocks again. No response.
Narrowing his eyes, he carefully enters the room to find a shirtless Avery… On his bed… Continuously linking and unlinking his fingers on his chest, while looking directly down at them, making a face of pure amazement. Sam had to bite his fist to hold back his laughter. "What are you doing, buddy?"
And without looking up, Avery replied, "Just trying to figure something out." In a simple tone.
"What?" He chuckles.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure you wouldn’t understand." He deadpans.
"C'mon, try me?"
"Oh, okay, but… It's gonna sound weird." He explained, still not looking away from his fingers. Sam just raised a brow and leaned against the doorframe. "Can you hear this?" Avery blurted out.
Sam just about wet his pants, laughing at his son, high as a kite and saying weird shit. "No, bud, I’m afraid I don’t."
"Well, then you can’t help me." He said, disappointed. Sam figured, "Whatever." And decided to leave him for a bit to come down from his high. But sure enough a couple minutes later, he returned to the room and Avery's still doing weird shit with his fingers. Sam almost felt bad disturbing him because for all this precious boy knew right now, he's saving the fucking world. "Dude, look up for a second. I gotta talk to you." He asked.
"Uhh, I don’t know if I sure, Dad?" He said, all conflicted.
"You'll be fine, just look at me." Sam snickered. And with that, the fingers stopped and Avery's head slowly tilted up, revealing the goofiest face Sam had seen, and probably ever will see, on a human being. Sam didn’t know if he had to stifle another laugh or call the Batman.
"So, what have you been doing all day?" Sam asked, putting on the dad voice.
"Uhh, y'know? Just hanging around." The boy grinned like a fool.
"Well, did you steal one of my edibles?" He asked, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.
Kid didn't even miss a beat, "I don't know what that is." That same dumb smile plastered on his face.
Whatever, Avery wants to play dumb games, Sam is happy to play along. Knowing from experience, you can’t act like a smart-ass long when you’re that high. "An edible is a food, with weed in it."
"Well, that sounds delicious." He replied, "I'd like to try one of those someday."
"Mhmm, I bet you would." He hummed, "You didn’t steal my edible." He cut straight to the point.
"Uh, no, I would- No!" He stammered.
He looked toward his bin, and sure enough the wrapper in sitting right there. He huffed deep, "What’s that?" Gesturing toward said wrapper.
"Oh, I stole your edible, Dad." He said, smile finally dropping. "I'm so glad you saw the, I’m so high I CAN'T FAKE IT ANYMORE!!"
Well, admitting there’s a problem is the first step to recovery, right? The state of Avery reminded Sam of Nathan's first experience with edibles. This happened a couple years back in New Orleans, Nate had hurt his back in a work related accident. He'd come good eventually, according to his doctor, but in the meantime he’d write him a prescription for medical marijuana. Nate had smoked it once in school but never touched it since, so he asked Sam for help. Like a good big brother, Sam warned him of the pros and cons of both smoking and eating kush, including how to be careful with edibles, since he's had his fair share of accidents where he'd think it wasn’t working, chomp down a second only for the first edible to kick in followed by immense dread for what's coming with that second edible.
After rounding up his options, Nathan chose to go with the edibles, figuring it's be more convenient for him. Sam offered to go and get the edibles for him, saving both him and Elena the trouble.
A day or so later, Sam found himself hanging out with Harry. Now Harry was a different story than both Drake boys when it came to his cannabis use. Smoked the stuff almost all his teenage and adult life. Telling doctors a whole bunch of stories, ranging from "Been suffering from migraines since I was twelve, and then I fell at hit my head, and blah blah blah." To get his medical card. He'd even once drawn a blank at the dispensary with Sam after getting his card, the guy at the counter what trying to make conversation and asked he why he smoked. Thankfully for him there was a poster behind the counter with all the reason people meet the criteria for medical cannabis and Harry picked the first one.
"Autism…" He blurted. A moment Sam has not yet let the Brit live down. The poor bastard meant to say ‘Anxiety'.
So they were hanging out at Harry's place and the Brit asks, "You like edibles." Sam having not had much to do with weed at this time simply shrugged, taking a sip from his beer, "Haven’t had one in a while, man."
"You wanna try one?" Harry asked, getting up from his chair.
"Sure, why not?" He graciously answered, following the younger man. "What do you like to eat, mate?"
"Depends on what you got, I guess? If it’s sweet, I prefer baked goods." Sam explained, following him into the kitchen.
"Well, you're in luck. Made these this afternoon." Harry grinned, pulling out a tray of muffins from the counter. He carefully hands one to Sam, "There we are." He says, smiling wide. "Take this, go into the living room, turn on the TV. You know where the PlayStation and the Apple TV is, just do your thing while I take care of some things." Harry explains softly.
Sam figured that it'd be like his usual session. He’d get high for about an hour, come down and drive home. Yeah, it was in fact not gonna be like his usual session. As he ate the muffin, he thought to himself "Damn, Harry's a good baker!" Seriously, he ate the whole thing, down to the very last crumb. In fact, it was as he was finishing said crumb that Harry came back in, noticed the muffin was gone and freaked out.
"You didn't eat that whole fucking muffin, did you?" He asked with urgency. Sam looked at him confused, but nodded. Harry just threw his arms down like, "You can’t stay here." He said, packing up Sam's stuff and pretty much shoving him out the door.
"What, why?" He asked, he felt fine but Harry was starting to make him panic. "You’re about to freak the fuck out and can’t have that in my house."
"Hey, you didn’t tell me not to eat the whole muffin." Sam argued.
"Well, I didn’t exactly tell you to eat the whole muffin." The Brit retorted. Sam turned and grabbed Harry's face, "What's about to happen to me?" He demanded to know. The Brit breathed deep and confirmed the worst. "You are in for a very uncomfortable eight hours. How far do you live from here again."
"I don't know, like, twenty minutes?" He replied, letting Harry go.
Harry casually looked at his watch, make a face and says, "Yeah, you might make it." That didn't help the ever rising sense of doom building up in Sam's mind. "Is there anyone in the house?" Harry continued.
"Yeah, just my son and husband." He cried out.
"Oh, well… I wouldn’t talk to either of them."
Luckily, Sam made it home, went to bed and woke up high as shit. Only one thing on his mind, "What the actual shit, Harry?!"
First thing he did after getting up was call that little rat bastard… To ask for more of those muffins. Because, Sam's big brotherly brain can’t be given a loaded gun like that and not expect it to go off at some point. And these muffins provided the perfect opportunity to play around with his dear little brother.
He gave him a call later that day to ask if he wanted to get high with him. To which Nate happily agreed, finally getting used to his edibles.
"Cool, you might wanna bring your own, 'cause I don’t think you can handle my stuff." He baited, and sure enough, Nathan took it.
"What? Whattaya- wha-,” He stammered. Being the youngest, Nathan was a sucker when it came to being told he couldn’t do something. Even in his late 30’s, he could handle being told no. "I think I can handle what you’re having, don’t you worry about me." He said ever so confidently.
Sam finally 'agreed' and bought his dear lil brother a space cake, as per Harry’s advice that it will "Fuck you up!" Were his words. Later that night, the brothers sat together as Sam cut it in half and one of the halves into quarters. "How much are you having?" Nate asked, a twinge of nervousness in his face.
"I'm taking a half, but you should probably start on a quarter." And just like that, hook, line and sinker. Nathan argued until Sam 'let' him have the bigger half and as he finished he turned to his dear, sweet baby brother and said, "I'm getting you the fuck outta here." Just like Harry had done to him the other night.
"Why?" Nathan asked, eyes wide.
"Because you’re gonna freaky out and I can’t have that here." Sam smiled. "Sooo… In my car." He was an asshole but he wouldn’t risk his brothers life for a joke, so he put Nate in the passenger seat of his truck and drove him back home.
"Call me in a hour so I know you’re okay, asshole." Nathan said with a weird confidence in his voice, "Or wait, I’ll call you in an hour."
"I look forward to it." He smiled.
An hour and a half goes by and suddenly Sam feels his phone buzz. Funny, it was Elena. And the text was just numbers.
What's all that? He texts back.
NATE'S FUCKING VITAL SIGNS. WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?! He can almost hear her voice screaming at him. Another text came through from Nathan this time.
I'm scared. We’re at the blood pressure machine at CVS. Am I gonna die???
You're not gonna die. But you could, you just to remember to. And he hit send, turn his phone off and went to bed.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to tell Avery that story when he came down from his high…