A/N: I wrote this as part of a fic trade with Cybovac awhile back. Slightly leaning towards Timon/Pumbaa. Posting it simply because I can, and because it's one of the few fanfics I've written as of late that I don't completely despise.
" You listen to old Rafiki, he knows what he's talking about!"
That's what he'd said, but it was a hard thing to believe.
" You must be patient, these dreadful things simply have to run their course!"
Zazu hadn't helped much, try as he might.
" Just let him rest, Pumbaa. Get some sleep yourself."
Simba's advice. Not likely to happen.
"Hakuna Matata."
That's what Timon always said. Pumbaa usually listened to Timon. But Timon wasn't saying that now. Nor was he singing, or laughing, or making any of the snarky, sarcastic-type comments that Pumbaa knew so well. Timon the meerkat was lying limp as a ragdoll, eyes closed, completely quiet for one rare time in his life. Pumbaa hated the silence. He shifted uneasily, wrapping himself closer around Timon's sleeping form. he knew Rafiki had said not to wake Timon, to let him sleep and let the fever run its course, but Pumbaa couldn't wait that long. His friend was sick and in trouble, and he had to do something.
" Timon? Are you alright? Talk to me, say something!"
".........something."
Timon's eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly at Pumbaa, yawned, then coughed. Relieved, Pumbaa moved closer, allowing Timon to lean against him.
" How do ya feel?"
" Like I got shot out of a cannon and hit Pride Rock. Or maybe it hit me," Timon muttered groggily. He closed his eyes, tried to take a few deep breaths. " Bein' sick ain't much fun, Pumbaa. I hope.....hope it's......not contagious..." he trailed off.
" I don't care if it is, I'm stayin' right here with you. I'd like to see any old cold try to mess with 'ol Pumbaa!"
"....it'd probably smell you and take off running."
" Problem solved, then!" Pumbaa grinned, but his face fell as he noticed how little and thin Timon looked, lying there against him. He hadn't been able to eat much, being sick, so he looked scrawnier than ever before. Timon curled up into a ball, shivering with fever.
" Hey, Timon." Pumbaa wrapped his tail around the meerkat's body, trying to keep him warm. " Remember the fireflies? Think about the fireflies."
" Pumbaa, it's a cold. I'm not dying. You don't have to try and keep my mind occupied, I'm not gonna go into the light. Unless there's bugs there. Then, maybe."
" Oooh! The slimy ones?"
" No. Crunchy."
They pretended to glare at each other for a moment, then Timon smiled.
" I'm.....glad you're here, Pumbaa. I'll be matata, right?"
" Hakuna matata." Pumbaa touched his nose to Timon's head as the meerkat snuggled against him. They nuzzled one another like lions----living in the Pridelands had had its effects.
Reluctantly, Pumbaa let Timon drift back to sleep, knowing he needed to rest, somewhat reassured that his friend would be okay.
" Get better soon, Timon," he said softly, as his eyes drifted closed. " Get better soon. I......I love you, buddy."
Timon smiled sleepily.
" Love, he mumbled, almost inaudibly. "Not like. Love."