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Chasing the Kite

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Growing up Isaac had been taught, just like every other kid, that drugs were bad. Drugs would ruin your life, they would kill you. The typical things that would scare any little kid his age. So he, along with the rest of his class, had signed the generic oath to never do drugs and to stay in school.

It wasn’t until he was older, and not so scared, that he had his first taste of drugs. Pot to be more exact. His big brother Camden had brought home the hand rolled joints. Isaac knew he wasn’t supposed to know about it, but when his brother had caught him snooping, he’d motioned him into the room and they’d smoked together.

Isaac had coughed and sputtered on the first inhale, and Camden had laughed at him, his eyes red rimmed and half lidded, a slow grin on his face. Isaac had glared and took a longer drag on the nasty tasting joint. Then another and another until he didn’t care what it tasted like. He felt too good to really complain about it. And with him and his big brother giggling like idiots, all was right with the world.

When Camden was killed on the battle field, Isaac stopped smoking pot. That was something he’d only done with his brother, and now with him dead it felt wrong on top of already being illegal.

When he’d received the Bite he’d been introduced to Spice. It was supposed to be used as incense, but everyone used it as a pot substitute.

It had been Erica of all people he’d caught smoking it in the back of one of the abandoned train cars. She looked guilty, with her pretty blue and white glass pipe hanging from her mouth. He stood with his arms folded over his chest until she held it out to him as a peace offering.

Reluctantly he took it and sank down onto the floor beside her. She flicked the lighter over the end of the pipe as he held it and took a long deep puff.

Isaac winced and fought the urge to cough as the bitter smoke had filled his lungs. Erica told him it was supposed to taste like strawberries. He told her it tasted like horseshit, she’d cackled with her head thrown back.

He’d take a few long puffs and handed it back to her, and waited. He felt normal, not even a buzz. Erica had patted his shoulder and told him to give it time. A few minutes later he’d turned to look at her and his whole world tilted on his axis.

Isaac swayed even though he was sitting still. He blinked and grabbed onto the nearest seat to try and keep from falling over. Beside him Erica grinned knowingly and lit the end of the pipe again for herself.

He didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit. He could feel his pulse already quickening to the point of discomfort.

“Just relax and ride it out.” Erica had told him as she slumped down against the wall until she was basically lying down. Isaac had whined and held his head, his hand buried into his curls and eyes shut tight.

He could feel Erica as she reached out and petted him sympathetically. “You did too much too soon, pup.”

Isaac growled pathetically at her but didn’t dare to move or open his eyes.

An hour later the overwhelming feeling of falling and panicking had subsided. Erica had been smoking beside him the whole time. He held out his hand to her and she gave him a shit eating grin and handed over the pipe.

This went on for weeks, until Isaac just didn’t feel the buzz anymore. He didn’t even feel the bad trip like he had the first time. Erica was dumbfounded. Sure she’d outgrown the trips it gave her when she’d had too much and finally settled with a nice mellow buzz each time. But that didn’t feel like it was going to wear off for her any time soon.

Isaac continued to smoke it with her though, and even ventured out to get his own pipe at head shop that was near the bad part of Beacon Hills. He’d felt scared at first, going into the shop by himself. Until he remembered he was a badass werewolf and could hold his own against anyone. Unless an alpha or something was there, but he highly doubted it.

Inside the shop there had been rows and rows of indie music selections. On one far side there was a clothing and purse line made out of entirely organic and hemp materials. He’d been debating on buying a cool looking shirt when his eyes caught on what he’d came there in the first place to buy.

In the back, in glass display cases were the pipes and hookahs and incense. He noticed one item there was synthetic urine but quickly backed away from that knowing that was bad. In the back of his mind he wondered if the Spice he smoked would even show up on a drug test.

He dismissed the hookahs immediately. They were pretty to look at that much was true, but all the work they included just wasn’t worth it, and they were too expensive for him.

The pipes were in a section all by themselves. Some looked like lipstick dispensers. Some looked like actual tobacco pipes, like his dad had owned. He overlooked those especially as quick as he could.

Finally he found the ones like Erica had. Simple blown glass with swirled in colors, thinner at the top and thickened at the bottom where the bowl was. He knew before he’d gone to the store that he’d want one like Erica had, something familiar. But he didn’t want the exact same one as hers.

It was at the end, a cheaper one, but he’d known it was the one for him. A simple design, exactly like Erica’s, but instead of the marble blue and white like hers, this one was more solid thick stripes of blue and orange.

The guy behind the display looked bored when he fished the pipe out. But then again Isaac couldn’t tell if he looked bored or if that was just his default facial setting.

When asked what he was smoking in it Isaac had answered, albeit too quickly, tobacco. The guy had raised a pierced eyebrow at Isaac, clearly calling his bluff, but had shrugged and scratched at his scraggly hair underneath his beanie and motioned for Isaac to follow him to the register.

“I head this is good.” The guy said as he bagged Isaac’ shiny new pipe and added a purple and silver package into his bag. He knew it was another brand of Spice, one that Erica had mentioned but ever tried.

“Oh, I don’t…” Isaac had trailed off when the guy grinned at him and handed him the bag and wished him a good day. Isaac stuffed the bag into his hoodie pocket and hightailed it out of the shop, and didn’t stop until he was back at the train depot.

“Ohhh someome got a new toy!” Erica had crooned from her usual spot. Isaac huffed and knocked shoulders with her and took out his own pipe. Erica handed him a lighter and told him to keep it. He raised an eyebrow at the pink lighter and she beamed at him, keeping the manlier blue one for herself.

When the new grade of Spice didn’t affect him either, he started to get frustrated. It’s not like he’s addicted or anything. But it annoyed him that he couldn’t even get buzzed.

Erica had laughter and ruffled his curls. “Just don’t go around smoking bath salts. I’d rather smoke wolfs bane than go chomping on someone’s face. The full moon makes me want to do that enough as it is.”

Isaac had laughed along with her, but he’d gained an idea.

He knew it was a stupid idea. But he wanted to see what would happen.

It wasn’t until Derek, Erica, and Boyd had left the depot did he put his plan into motion. He snuck into Derek’s bunk, or what Derek had deemed his bunk, and rifled through until he’d found what he was looking for.

It had been an Argent’s box, until she’d been killed, and then Derek had kept it. Not for sentiment sake, but because what was inside.

When he opened the box he felt a little guilty, but quickly took out one of the four remaining bullets and scurried off to the train car that he and Erica usually smoked in and made himself comfy.

It felt weird for him to bite the bullet casing open. Even weirder to pour the powder into the bowl along with his Spice.

His nerves had started to get to him back when he heard another heartbeat and his eyes shot up. Peter leaned against the frame. He didn’t look exactly concerned but there was something in the way his face was set that Isaac could tell he didn’t like what he was seeing.

“I see suicide is all the rage now?” Peter had questioned, his eyebrows dancing the way of the Hale people.  Isaac snorted and glared at him.

“I’m not trying to kill myself, asshat.”

Peter’s eyebrows had shot up with that and his eyes flashed electric blue. “Oh really,” he drawled, clearly unimpressed. “Because to me it looks like you’re about to smoke wolfs bane.”

Isaac shrugged.

The older beta rolled his eyes and waved him off and walked out of the train car.

Finally alone, Isaac dug into his pocket for his lighter. He took one last calming breath, lit up the bowl and took a long drag on his pipe.

The instant the smoke hit his lungs he knew he was fucked. It burned, like the smoke was literally eating away his insides. He coughed and sputtered, not unlike the first time he’d tried real pot with Camden. But unlike that time, this time the smoke was tendrils of black that leaked from his mouth and nose and didn’t stop.

He’d started to panic. He tried to stand up or to run, to get Peter to come back but he tripped and fell hard onto his hand and knees, the mix of the Spice and wolfs bane making him too weak and woozy.

When the black bile started to pour from his mouth, a sign that his body was trying and failing to heal itself, did he really start to panic.

Everything was on fire, his eyes blurred and stung. He knew he was going to pass out and that scared him. He knew if he passed out he was a dead wolf.

No sooner had he thought that did everything go black.

He heard voices. Muffled and far away. Like he was underwater.

Slowly the voices had started getting louder, clearer. Someone was crying. Someone was growling. Someone had his hand in a death grip.

Isaac groaned and winced. His throat felt raw and burned. He tried to sit down only to have a gentle, but firm, hand push him back down.

“Isaac I need you to take it easy.” Deaton’s voice rang through. He sagged back against the table and groaned again. The hand in his loosened just a bit but still hung on.

Carefully he cracked an eye open and was a little surprised to see Scott was the one holding his hand. Allison was nearby crying, her eyes red rimmed and super wide as they watched him. Derek was the one obviously growling, and hand Stiles and Boyd holding him back.

Isaac whined miserably which Derek only snorted at. With Scott’s help he slowly sat up and licked his lips, and grimaced at the foul taste that lingered in his mouth.

Derek is pissed, he could tell that much. From how Derek’s eyes were blood red, how ridged he stood, how a continuous growl echoed through the clinic.

“What were you thinking?” He’d barked at Isaac and Isaac had flinched, scooting closer to Scott’s side.

His eyes widened when Derek had held up not only his pipe, but Erica’s as well. He noticed then that she stood near the doorway looking guilty, next to Peter who looked only a little concerned.

“I couldn’t get high anymore so I though..” He trailed off at Derek enraged snarl, nearly jumping out of his skin when the pipes suddenly exploded against the wall behind him.

Isaac felt like he couldn’t breathe again when Derek broke free from Stiles and Boyd. He slammed his eyes shut and braced himself only to yelp in surprise when Derek wrapped himself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“Don’t you ever do that to us again.” Derek demanded and Isaac nodded and hesitantly hugged his alpha back.

When they finally left the clinic the pack doesn’t leave Isaac’s side, even Derek and Peter seem reluctant to leave him for long.

When they’re back at the train depot Isaac had caught Peter’s eye.

“Thank you.”

Peter had nodded and waved him off but had also given him a small smile.

Isaac never had the urge to buy another pipe or try to get another buzz. He was confident that his experimenting was over and bath salts still sounded like a horrible idea.