[ON HOLD] Unanswerable (A Potter!Lock Fanfic)

Chapter Eight

Hey guys sorry I haven't updated this (or anything else) in a really long time. I have no excuse. I'm just lazy.

I hope you like what I'm doing with this story, and if you don't you should probably stop reading.

Anyway...vote, comment, and fan!

~Bb

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Potterlock chapter 8

I got up off of Sherlock's bed and crossed over to the window seat.

Well...that had been thoroughly awkward. I had thrown myself at him and he said no. He wasn't even in the room at the moment and my cheeks were burning red with embarrassment.

To be fair, I understood where he was coming from. We'd been together for a while, but because we were at school, there hadn't been a chance to explore our feelings for each other, much less our...manly instincts. Sherlock needed a few days to /really/ get to know me. I understood that, but it didn't make the sting of rejection hurt any less.

I heard footsteps in the hallway and expected to see Sherlock come back into the room, but instead a tall dark haired woman stopped in the doorway.

"Who the hell are you?" The woman asked. Obviously she was Sherlock's mother. She had the same unruly hair and the thin figure.

Despite her rude greeting, I wanted to put my best foot forward. I stood and crossed to the door, holding out my hand. "I'm John Watson...a friend of Sherlock's."

She snorted, "A friend of Sherlock's...yeah right. Did he pay you?"

I frowned. "N-no, I'm here by choice."

"Mother?"

The woman turned around to see Sherlock standing in the hallway. He crossed into his bedroom and stood by my side. "I didn't expect you to be home tonight."

"I didn't expect you to have a friend," she jeered back. Was that really necessary?

This woman was tearing Sherlock down. I could see the look of hurt on his face that he probably thought he was masking. I couldn't let her keep doing this to him.

"Miss, do you love your son?" I asked.

"John, what are you-?" Sherlock started, but I shh-ed him.

"Excuse me?" She asked, uninterested.

"I asked you if you loved your son," I repeated, trying my hardest to keep my strong face up. I didn't care what Sherlock's mother thought of me any more. I wanted to know that the boy I loved was safe in his home and I didn't think he was with this woman.

She stared at me, her expression stone cold. "Yes I love my son."

"I don't mean Mycroft, Ms. Holmes."

This time she did not respond.

I nodded, "That will be all," and close the door.

"John, what did you just do?" Sherlock asked me.

"I stood up for you," I said. Did Sherlock not appreciate my act of bravery in his name.

"No, you just proved to me that my mother doesn't care about me," he said, looking hurt.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry if it wasn't the response from her you were looking for, but someone needed to open up her eyes," I explained. "This is just a suggestion, but maybe we should transfer over to my house. My mum is really a great person. My dad's a bit tough, but he cares."