A/N: Just a fair warning, this was built on a sleep depraved mind, so, if this isn't good, then I'm sorry you forced yourself to read this XD!

After all the commotion from the stampede had died down, Simba hurriedly scrambled down the side of the gorge, hoping that his father would be in one piece. Once he got down to the bottom, his heart sank when he didn't see one trace of him. There was nothing but remnants of dust in the air, clouding his vision. No. No, he can't be gone! He has to be here! Simba thought quickly panicking. He shouted, "Dad!"

He heard nothing, but his echo bouncing off the walls. He looked around, ears perked, just to make sure he didn't miss anything. Running a bit more forward to get a better view the area, he repeated, "Dad!"

There was a faint sound of steps behind him; a bit of hope swelled in his chest, even though his steps did sound a bit off. "Dad?" He asked aloud, mostly to convince himself it was him. When the steps got louder towards him, his heart beat got faster with anticipation and a smile spread across his face at the thought of being reunited with his father. A silhouette formed in the clouds of dust, which caused Simba's smiled to falter. The steps were of a lone wildebeest. As it got closer, Simba stepped out of the way allowing it through and looked at the creature with curiosity (and a bit of resentment for making him believe it was his father). The loner galloped past a limp body underneath a broken branch. All the sudden, Simba felt like the ground had collapsed and he was sinking through the dark pit. The body lying battered, bruised, and limp underneath the branch was his father, Mufasa.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Simba bounded towards his deceased father and slowed as soon as he gotten closer. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, as he noticed how ominously stiff his father was, but he refused to believe that he was dead. It just can't be true, he thought sorrowfully. He inched closer and called, "Dad."

As expected, there was no answer, no movement. Simba hiccupped a sob and in an effort to make his father move, he rolled his cheek again his head. He whimpered, "…Dad, come on," still no answer. "You gotta get up."

He got on his hind legs, put his front legs on Mufasa's cheek, and started gently pushing on it. C'mon dad, please, Simba pleaded in his head. He sobbed, "Dad. We gotta go home."

Trying once more to help his father up, he grabbed Mufasa's ear and started tugging on it. The only thing that happened was that the father's head rolled lifelessly. Feeling desperate and scared, Simba padded away from the corpse and cried, "Help!"

There was no response except for his voice reverberating off the steep walls. Hoping someone would answer back, he shouted desperately, "Somebody!" Still no one answer back, feeling crestfallen he half-heartedly called, "Anybody!"

No-no-no-no! Please, someone help my dad. …Please, Simba thought sullenly as he felt himself breaking down. "Help," he sniffled mournfully. Finally realizing that no one was coming, the young prince gave up and turned back to his father's corpse. He stared at it for few seconds, thinking that there could possibly be a miracle that his father just get up, or cough, or even twitch. …Nothing. Not wanting to leave his father all alone, Simba nuzzled his father's limp paw, crawled underneath it, and embraced his father for the last time.

After a few minutes of silence (excluding Simba's sniffles and sobs), a figure appeared out of the thick dust. A dark lion with toxic green eyes stared down at Simba with almost an emotionless expression. He spoke, "Simba," the cub jumped back, startled by the lion's arrival. The lion finished in a dramatic whisper, "What have you done?"

N-No! Uncle Scar saw the whole thing! No, I-I didn't m-mean it, He stuttered frantically in his thoughts. Simba looked back-and-forth at his father's limp form and Scar's unnerving eyes. He stammered, "Th-there were wildebeests and he tried to save me…it was an accident, I-I…I didn't mean for this to happen-"

Simba got cut off by his uncle, who was slowly pulling him in with mock comfort. He reassured, "Of course, of course you didn't. No one…ever means for these things to happen. …But the king is dead," he looks down at Simba faking regret, "and if it weren't for you he'd still be alive."

Simba sniffled, burying his face into Scar's foreleg. B-but, I didn't want this to happen. I-, his thoughts go interrupted by Scar, as he exclaimed, "Oh! What will your mother think?"

What would she think? She'd probably hate me for what I did…everyone would. What do I do? Simba thought frantically hoping for some clarity. He looked up at Scar through teary eyes, clearly grief-stricken and shocked. He sniffled, "What am I gonna do?"

Instantly, Scar answered, "Run away, Simba," this caused the young prince to back up in surprise. Run? The prince thought. As if hearing his thoughts, Scar repeated, "Run. Run away and never return."

Simba instantly go on all fours and began running as fast as he could. I have to get away from the Pride Lands. There's no way I could face the pride after killing my father. …But, I can't exactly run away either. What if they come looking for me? What if they even think I died too? Would they think I abandoned them…a flurry of questions came to Simba's mind, causing him to slow his pace. Should he run? It wouldn't be very king-like to run away, instead of facing the consequences ahead of you. He whispered, "No, I have to go back. I have to face them."

With that in mind, Simba turned around and started heading back home.

Scar watched with silent pleasure as his nephew turned tail and started running off. Now, all I have to do is get rid of the nuisance, he thought methodically. As if on cue, three hyenas appeared behind him quietly, manically grinning. Anyone could tell they were itching to sink their teeth into the cub and watch as his life slowly drains away. …But, they knew better, they waited for Scar's signal. Scar waited for a few seconds, turned his head, and commanded, "Kill-"

A voice interrupted, "Uncle Scar!"

Scar's eyes shrank and he thought frightfully, No-no-no-no-no! That's not possible! He turned his head and saw the impossible running towards him, seemingly more confident. He shouted in shock, "Simba!?"

"Simba!?" Two of the hyenas parroted, while the other looked stunned and oblivious at the same time. Scar swished his tail, signaling them to go hide. The three got the message and hid back into the-now dissipating-dust. The dark lion looked back at the young cub, who was not panting in front of him. He asked spastically, "Wh-what are you…why are you….What made you-"

Simba interrupted, "I realized that a true king would face his crimes and any punishment that comes with it. So, I decided to come back."

Scar's eyes darted back-and-forth, trying to find a way to make Simba run away again. He stuttered, "B-But…what about, uh, you're m-mother? Or your friend…what was her name? Um, Malaya?"

Simba's faced scrunched up in confusion and he corrected, "Nala…"

"Yes, yes. Her. What about them? Can you imagine their dread when they hear about your crime?"

"Yes, I know. I thought about that, but if I ran away, then they would've thought I abandoned them or they may even think that I was dead. It would've been terrible."

It would've been glorious, Scar thought longingly. He sighed and agreed in mock sadness, "Yes, it would've been devastating to see the pride so crestfallen in thinking both the king and prince died."

Simba nodded in agreement, knowing that Scar also knew it was best for him to return as well. He looked back at his father's corpse, padded over to it, and nuzzled underneath his chin. He whispered, "Don't worry, dad. I will make you proud, even if I do get banished from the Pride Lands."

With that being said, Simba walked over to the side of the gorge and started climbing up, leaving a furious uncle behind. Scar's eyes blazed rage, as he mumbled every single Swahili curse word. One of the hyenas, a female, stepped out and asked, "Scar…are you-"

Scar let out ferocious howl and slashed across Mufasa's face. He snarled at the slightly bleeding corpse, hoping that he could feel the pain in the afterlife. The three hyenas looked at Scar, bewildered. Scar's wide, manic eyes shot up to the three, realizing it was going to take more than a corpse to vent his anger upon. The three noticed this and whimpered, taking steps back as Scar slowly advanced. One of the male hyenas chuckled nervously, "Hahaha, well, this has been fun, Scar. But, uh, we gotta go. Right, Shenzi?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Shenzi quickly agreed, never taking her eyes off of the angered lion. The two quickly shot looks at the second male and said in unison, "Ed?"

The slower hyena grunted an agreement, and then the three quickly ran off. Scar crouched down, ready to start chasing after them, until a voice up top shouted, "Scar? Are you okay?"

Scar looked up and saw Simba looking down at him with generous concern. It disgusted him. He rolled his eyes and answered, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm still shaken at the thought of my brother's death. Don't worry; I'll be there, Simba."

The young cub nodded and then disappeared. Scar hissed, "Now what am I going to do? That cub better get banished or even torn apart by the pride," he started climbing up the gorge and assured, "They'd have no choice but to banish him. I don't know what else they would do."

So, I hope you enjoyed that chapter. If you want me to continue, please put up a review. I'll say this now, if I do continue, I'm not too sure where I want this to go, so we'll all be in for a bumpy ride. Also, the humor will start coming as soon as I get passed all the drama. Anyway, again, I hope you enjoyed. Please review!

Also, Malaya means prostitute in Swahili.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing.