If Nuka Survived...

Chapter 1

The darkness overwhelmed him, a throbbing pain taking over his skull. Was he dead? He could still breathe. He checked if he could hear, smell, or move his tongue. That, he could not.

There was silence. A dark cave void of any color. A canvas covered in black paint. The sky at night without the great kings and queens. No sun, no moon, no stars. Empty. That's what this was, empty. He felt his head yet, he could not see. He felt his broken chest though, it was not there. Where was he? Was he just awaiting trial from the great kings and queens? The decision that would ultimately send him to one of two places? No, that couldn't be. They, the great ones, would not take so much precious time in deciding his-Nuka's- fate.

Suddenly, the heavy thumping of logs. He felt his body lose some weight before dropping to the ground completely. One more thump before he felt somebody throw him onto his or her back. What was happening? Who was this?

He felt his grayish paws and zig-zagged, black-tipped tail hang over the side of the larger lion uselessly. This lion felt strong and agile yet slightly undernourished. He or she wasted no time in adjusting him on his back before padding away towards some unknown destination. Towards the unconscious lion's fate.

He progressed slowly, only stopping once in a while to lap up a drink before going on his way. His shoulder blades seemed to alternate like pistons, rocking his cargo back and forth and, although he could not see him, Nuka could tell that this was a male lion. The distinct scent and small tickle of fur whenever the lion took a step signified the mane and sex openly. He also smelled like fresh wildebeest and zebra, signifying the land he was a part of. The Pridelands.

Finally, the male stopped, letting the teenage lion fall to the ground. He felt the cold wetness of a nose and then an even stranger feeling. A rough, wet surface was being rubbed against his fur but, only in one direction. It was a feeling that he had not experienced since he was a cub and immediately found comfort in it. He felt like he wanted to purr but, alas, at his current state, his body did not permit him to do so.

As the tongue did its work, he felt his constant itchiness falter. He had always had a termite problem. Ever since his adopted brother, Kovu came around, termites would hop on and off of him, breeding and biting constantly. As such, the release from the itchiness was  very welcomed. Though it was only by a small margin, he felt better already. Termites were sticking to the rough tongue and being swallowed and thereby, killed by its feline owner.

He unconsciously let out a small moan as his body started to start itself up once again, the feeling of his head getting slammed against by a log starting to reassert itself. His body let out soft purrs as the other lion started to lick his mane, the feeling still slightly alien to him.

"Ah," The lion said. "I was right. There is life in you, yet."

The voice was so familiar, so distinct that a wave of nostalgia seemed to wash over him. It was deep and soothing and made some of the hair of his mane stand on end.

"But, what has happened to your tail? Surely you didn't step on it too many times, did you?"

"I-I..," he stuttered, finding his voice. "I didn't. My mother...Who-who are-?" Nuka squinted, prying his eyes open a smidge.

"Aw, shame," the lion said, his slightly British accented voice echoing around the cave that they were in. "You don't remember your old father? I'm hurt, Nuka. Really, I am."

"Father?"

Nuka hesitated, his brain not processing the information for a couple of seconds before it all came to him. His eyes snapped open in shock, looking around to spot the lion.

"Scar? But-but, you're-!"

"Dead?" His chocolate-colored face appeared before his son's, startling the younger lion for a moment. "I faked my death to fool Simba and those wretched traitors."

He sat back on his hind legs and let his tail slap against the ground, furiously.

"But the hyenas attacked you. You were eaten to death!" Nuka tried to stand but, still weak, fell back to the ground, claws extended and trying to grasp the hard floor of the cave.

"Stay down. You are in no condition to stand now. And, not exactly. I was attacked. However, when the flames rose high enough to conceal those fools and myself from the Pridelanders, I fought them off. Pity, my fur is still uneven in some places from the struggle."

The younger lion looked up at his father, enthralled with him. As if he were the largest antelope he'd ever seen. It had been years. He was the only one besides his mother who had ever seen him. Even Kovu only had a single glimpse before his father fell off of Pride Rock and into the flames. And, even then, he was just a newborn. That day was a mark in his memory. A blemish that would forever remain on his mind. A small flash of it seemed to come to him.

He was just a cub, lying on his back and pawing at the air, a mouse bouncing off of his playfully moving front feet. Then, he grabbed its tail between two of his paw fingers and put it on the gloomy, grey floor of Pride Rock, watching amusedly as the rodent tried to scurry away, hopelessly.

"Now, now, Nuka," It was his father, the king of the once plentiful Pridelands. "You know better than to play with your food! You wouldn't want it to run away now, would you?" He mused, ruffling his son's small, black puff of a mane.

Scar had found the mouse and caught it hoping to make a quick meal of it. However, when he saw his cub scavenging for his own meal, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for the young prince and, instead, gave it to him. When he saw the small mammal, his face lit up and Nuka bounced around his father, laughing and swinging his undamaged tail happily. It was the happiest he had ever seen his son be and, noticing this small fact, had made the stern lion crack a rare smile.

"Yes, father," Nuka said, giggling before picking the mouse up once more but, with his mouth this time, and carrying it into the cave to finish it off, tail held high.

When he came back to reality, his father was staring back at him, confused.

"What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?"

"No-no! It's just-, you-I mean-, I haven't seen you since I was a cub!"

"And it seems that Zira hasn't done the best job either. You look starved and weak. Too weak. As if you are still a cub."

"A-a cub? But, I chased down Simba by myself! I climbed up a gigantic wall of logs and-!"

"And almost got yourself killed! Almost crushed by logs that your younger brother could throw! Nuka, you are frail. Your bones are too thin and you have no muscle. Who's fault is that?"

He hesitated.

"That's what I thought."

At that, Scar stood, stepped around Nuka, and, biting his tail, pulled it out straight.

Nuka yelled painfully as his tail snapped back into the right position and then back to the way it was before.

"That tail is pretty damaged. We must get to work on getting you into shape."

"Will it hurt?"

"Only if you resist. Now, I'm going to help you to stand."