Apparently the key to getting a large number of concerned and horrified reviews is to either kill or apparently kill a popular main character. I thought I got a lot of attention when I killed off Sarabi. But after the last chapter… several people are wondering if I actually have the audacity to kill off Timon too. Well, I will say that I always wanted to have a conversation between the meerkat and Mufasa. I just always wondered how he'd feel about Timon, all things considered. And that's part of the reason I wrote this story in the first place.

I know you likely have a lot of questions. All I can say concerning that question is that all the answers you seek are coming. So please enjoy the chapter.

Simba felt a familiar scream of horror coming from his mouth as the two figures vanished over the edge. One moment, Kondo is about the kill him. The next, Timon was attacking the dangerous predator, causing both of them to fall off the cliff.

Seeing the meerkat tumble out of view like that was horrifying, dragging up painful memories of his father falling to his demise and Simba couldn't stand it. He was losing someone important again because they were willing to risk their life to save his. It was even the same gorge, if not the exact same spot. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't lose him.

The lion scrambled towards the canyon edge, intent on following his attacker and Timon. The aggressive lioness that accompanied Kondo was completely forgotten. Simba sole focus was on the only thing that mattered.

The darkness and rain made his efforts to climb down the steep surface dangerous, but he took his time. He couldn't risk slipping, no matter how badly he wanted to hurry. He couldn't help anyone if he fell himself.

And, honestly, he wasn't certain if he'd like what he would find. He saw Kondo hit the meerkat before they vanished from sight. Even over the thunder and rain, he heard a series of crashes as a large form tumbled down the steep surface. It was quite likely that, even if he found Timon down there, it would be too late. Just as it was too late when he witnessed his father fall from this same canyon as a cub. He might already be dead by the time he reached him. And if the meerkat was, Simba didn't know if he could accept another loss.

Aziza was catching up to the rest of the pride, snarling in frustration that her fellow lionesses could be so easily distracted by one stupid warthog. There was a plan, one that Kondo and Faika had perfected in order to take over this territory, but the felines had apparently forgotten their role when they were first attacked by the swine and then saw him run. Anger and a strong hunting instinct had caused them to chase the pig and now she needed to drag their miserable hides back to the fight.

Of course, she was fairly certain that Kondo and his mate would have already killed Simba by the time they returned. They had already weakened the lion before the warthog interfered and both of the felines who remained to challenge the ruler of this territory were very dangerous opponents. But he ordered Aziza to retrieve the lionesses and that was exactly what she would do.

Considering that she was farther behind than the rest of the felines, she couldn't even spot the warthog that they were chasing. All she could see was that the rest of her pride was slowing down their pursuit. Aziza felt that her fellow lionesses had finally reached the end of their endurance and the pig had escaped. After all, she was fairly winded herself. Regardless, the fact that they had stopped meant she could now catch up and berate them for leaving in the first place.

"What do you think you are doing?" she growled, finally closing in on the closest felines. "Running after that pig?"

Before any of her fellow lionesses could respond to her, unfamiliar roars and snarls erupted from the front of the pride. Aziza recognized the sounds of battle and when several strange felines began to appear in their midst, she was quick enough to realize what had occurred. The warthog had led them straight into at least a portion of Simba's pride and the felines were attacking. Which meant the whole "make his death look like an accident" was a complete failure now.

Furious at the complication, Aziza pounced at the closest strange feline and tried to rip out her throat. As soon as she dealt with this problem, she would drag the members of her pride back to Kondo for him to deal with. And, if she managed to find that swine that caused this mess, she would make certain to turn him into her next meal.

He was standing in the middle of a cloudbank with Mufasa, the dead king and father to Simba. And the only way he could be doing something this impossible would be if he was equally deceased. Timon knew he should be surprised, but he just couldn't manage. Mostly, he was calm and accepting of his situation. And apologetic.

"No, I mean I'm really sorry, sir," he continued. "I made a mess of everything and you probably want to eat me now. Or, you would if we weren't both… you know."

The lion, tilting his head curiously, asked, "Why would you say that, Timon?"

"Let's take a look at what I've managed to do," the meerkat began to list. "Me and Pumbaa raised your kid, who was destined to rule over the Pridelands when he grew up, with the whole 'no responsibility' mindset and did everything in our power to keep him from ever becoming the kind of lion who should be king. He never got the opportunity to develop any real fighting skills, which all you predators need, because he didn't have anyone to practice with since he was a cub. He's lucky he was able face you psycho brother because I know he didn't have much experience at that type of thing. He went to sleep hungry fairly regularly growing up because we were raising him on bugs instead of real food. By the time Nala showed up and dragged Simba out of the Hakuna Matata lifestyle we'd trapped him in so that he could be king, he knew almost nothing about ruling and that banana-beaked loudmouth had to apparently give him a crash course while me and Pumbaa tried to distance ourselves from the kid."

Each word left the small mammal feeling more and more frustrated. He didn't want to think about all those doubts and failures to do the right thing concerning Simba. Timon half-expected to be attacked by Mufasa or, at least, reprimand for his inability to take care of the feline. He was dealing with Simba's dad. The meerkat had heard enough stories in more recent days to know who he was dealing with. The lion was supposed to be this amazing guy who could play with the cub, beat up hyenas that threatened his son, and manage to deliver a thought-provoking lesson in a single day. He was the perfect parent and his cub was raised by the likes of Timon and Pumbaa. The warthog was practically born to deal with young creatures, even if he wasn't perfect at instilling all the necessary skills for royalty, but the meerkat…

"And," continued Timon, "to finish off the lovely job I've been doing, I ended up making Simba doubt both you and the entire concept of the 'dead guys in the sky who watch everyone' idea just in time for his mother to die. So, yeah, I feel fairly confident that I have completely ruined everything when it comes to your son."

Halfway down the cliff, Simba found Kondo. The feline had apparently managed to dislodge several large stones as he tumbled down and one of the larger ones had landed on top of him on a thin overhang. He was clearly dead, crushed beneath the weight. Simba instantly shoved away any thoughts except for the mildly optimistic observation that Timon wasn't laying beside his enemy. As long as he didn't see his friend dead, there was still a chance he might be safe.

Simba continued the hazardous scramble down the cliff face. He hesitated to try calling out to the meerkat for a couple of reasons. If Kondo's pride was still within range, he didn't want to catch their attention. More importantly, he didn't want to call for Timon and have him not be able to answer. He didn't want to even consider the idea that he might be dead.

Lightning flashed across the sky again, briefly illuminating a safe place to place his paws and move further down the cliff side. A moment later, thunder rumbled in his ears. The feline's attention wasn't on the weather, though. Instead, the last words his friend spoke before he fell kept repeating in his head.

Don't touch my cub.

He never remembered Timon using that tone. It was angry, protective, and rather impressive considering the difference in size between the meerkat and his opponent.

Don't touch my cub.

The idea of the small mammal attacking Kondo seemed so strange. Timon and Pumbaa may have accompanied him in his efforts to retake his place as king and then followed him into battle against Zira, but Simba always knew that there was a limit on how much they could and would do to help. But the meerkat leaping onto a predator's head and managing to sending him plummeting to his death went beyond what the feline ever expected of his friend.

Don't touch my cub.

But the tone felt so familiar. And the words weren't right, but the possessiveness and fury struck a chord in his memory.

Don't touch my cub.

If you ever come near my son again…

Simba almost stopped as he realized how similar Timon had sounded to how his father did when he fought off the hyenas so long ago. In fact, the lion knew that he'd adopted that same tone when he found Kiara so close to Zira when his daughter was still a cub. It was a tone of voice that seemed to represent everything a protective father stands for. And the meerkat even referred to Simba as "his" cub...

The lion knew he never consciously considered Timon or Pumbaa as substitutes for his parents. He always thought of them as his best friends. But deep down, he knew that both of them filled a gap that his father's death and the distance from his mother left behind. They raised him, against all logic and natural instincts. Neither would ever replace his parents, but they fulfilled the role during his youth. Considering the effort and time the pair of prey animals put into caring for him, if Timon wanted to think of Simba as his cub, he deserved the right to do so.

With a final short jump, the feline reached the bottom of the gorge. Rain still soaking his fur, the lion searched his surroundings for the meerkat. A few loose stones, knocked free by Kondo's fall, lay scattered around. Puddles were already forming across the ground, splashing with each careful step he took. He glanced between both his immediate surroundings and further up the cliff, just in case he missed his friend on the way down.

Then, his eyes fell on a small shape and Simba whispered softly, "No."

Timon waited in silence, his frustrations and fears completely spilled before the powerful feline before him. He didn't know what else to say and Mufasa wasn't saying anything back. The meerkat needed some type of response in order to figure out what to do now.

Without warning, the lion began walking again and Timon was forced to follow. He could still sense other animals further away, hidden in the fog. It was a little creepy; he could feel these other creatures wandering around in this fogbank and he knew that they were likely just as dead as him and Mufasa, but he couldn't see them. He couldn't even identify species, which is a rather important thing for prey animals to know so they can determine if they're about to be dinner.

"I think I should finish my story," the lion finally suggested. "My son was left alone, drowning in the guilt that my brother was placing on him, and I could do nothing more to help him. I was taken from Simba when he needed me the most and I was forced to simply watch as he wandered away from the pride, knowing that my cub would never be able to survive on his own. Burdened with the knowledge that my misplaced trust in Scar both caused my demise and would soon lead to my son's, I lost all hope."

The feline shook his head, as if trying to banish the memories of that dark time period. Apparently being dead and able to watch everyone wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Mufasa continued, "Imagine my surprise when he was found, slowly dying from both the elements and a broken heart, by the two most unlikely creatures that could possibly stumble across him. I never expected you to rescue him."

"All we did was move the kid to the shade," argued Timon. "And Pumbaa did all the heavy lifting."

"But what other meerkat or warthog would do that for a lion?" he asked. "And that was just the beginning. You saved him from his guilt and depression. He couldn't confront his past yet, not until he was stronger and ready to face all that had transpired, so you taught him to put it behind him. It was not a permanent solution to his problem, but it was an effective one for a time. Instead of allowing himself to die, you managed to convince Simba to live and to even try to be happy."

"Okay, maybe one good thing came out of our attempt to teach the kid about not having responsibilities and stuff. We cheered him up. But we probably didn't teach him all the king-like things that you wanted him to know. Face it, you would have done this terrific job raising Simba to follow in your footsteps and you end up having to rely on us to do it. It is a miracle that he turned out to be such a great king because I know I completely messed up with that sort of thing. Pumbaa probably would have done a better job of it on his own; he's got that whole nurturing and 'protective of small guys' nature. I'm the greedy meerkat who just wanted a predator bodyguard."

"Perhaps I would have done things differently and perhaps you weren't perfect, but you are greatly underestimating the positive impact you've had on Simba," Mufasa described. "He may not have been able to wrestle with his fellow cubs to develop his growing strength, but he learned to control it because he knew how easy it was to cause harm with power to those around him. I tried to teach him the importance of every animal and how even those we might hunt had their place in the Circle of Life, but your presence in his life ensured that he understood that lesson. And though he may have taken your worry-free lifestyle too far initially, you allowed him to enjoy the remainder of his time as a cub. But, most importantly, you gave him something he needed more than anything at that point."

"And what would that be?" asked Timon dryly. "Lessons in how to dig for grubs? I mean, yeah, some of that stuff sounds kind of important but…"

"You gave him love," Mufasa interrupted, causing the meerkat to stop walking entirely. The lion clarified, "You took him in, even though he would grow up to be a predator. You taught him as best you could. You raised him, regardless of the difficulties. Simba needed his family more than anything else and you gave that to him. You and Pumbaa were his family growing up. And I can never thank you enough for that."

"Come on," he muttered uncomfortably. "I mean, we like the kid. He's our best friend. But he's your son. Yours and Sarabi. His family is you, Sarabi, Nala, and Kiara. And Kovu now that he's with Kiara. But me and Pumbaa… we're just his buddies. That's all we could ever be."

Then, the lion gave a slight chuckle. Timon glared at him, forgetting momentarily that he was dealing with a large predator and the long-dead parent of Simba. This was a semi-serious situation. Not only did he not like the idea of Mufasa being amused by him, but the chuckle almost sounded like he was dismissing the meerkat's explanation as being a joke.

"I like to think there is a point where friends can become more than friends. They become family. And both you and Pumbaa crossed that point long ago," the feline remarked. "You followed him willingly into battle twice, once against Scar and once against Zira, even though everyone would understand if you chose not to go. You returned to Pride Rock and my son after he took his place as king, even though it meant leaving behind your old life. You've done everything possible to help him since you met Simba. Timon, you treat him and love him like he's your own son." He smiled slightly, "There's nothing wrong with that. He needed a parent and I couldn't be with him any longer. Perhaps you and Pumbaa were not what I would have expected, but you were exactly what he needed."

"But…," the meerkat began awkwardly, not certain what to make of the idea that Mufasa had no problem with him treating Simba like he was their kid.

"And don't forget that you just attacked a lion because he was threatening him," he reminded the smaller mammal. "You attacked him while claiming that Simba was your cub. It becomes a little difficult to deny how you view my son after that little display that brought you here."

It was far too easy for Simba to forget how small his friend was. He always knew that Timon was smaller than him, but he rarely realized to what extent the difference was. His personality just seemed to make the meerkat seem bigger, made him stand out more than those around him.

Now, it was perfectly clear how small and fragile he truly was. The normally-lively meerkat looked like little more than a limp clump of wet fur. The tiny figure was lying there, halfway curled up and very still. His back was covered in blood, the rain spreading it out further and washing some of into the puddles around him. He just looked so… helpless and broken.

Simba was afraid to approach him, but his paws were already carrying him to the small mammal. The circumstances might be extremely different, but the lion couldn't help feeling like he was a small cub after the stampede again. It was wrong. This should never have happened. It couldn't be happening. He lost his father this way, one of his children was killed by Zira when they were born, and his mother just died. He couldn't be losing one of his best friends now too.

Carefully, almost timidly, he nudged the limp shape with his nose and whispered, "Timon? Come on, Timon… you have to wake up. Please don't do this."

No matter how much he hoped for a reaction of some kind, a movement or even a sound from the meerkat, his soft pleas seemed to have no effect on the meerkat. By this point, he couldn't tell if it was the raindrops that were running down his face or tears. He didn't want to admit it, but…

"Please, Timon. Please wake up. Don't do this… Not yet."

The lion curled protectively around the small figure, not quite ready to leave him. He was so tiny, so defenseless. What could possibly make the meerkat think he could take on Kondo? He was smaller than even a newborn lion cub. Simba was supposed to protect him and Pumbaa from danger. But, instead, Timon tried to protect him and now he was…

He gently nudged the limp and lifeless meerkat again, wishing he could find some sign that it wasn't too late. If he'd been faster or stronger, maybe he could have beaten Kondo before this happened. If he'd been smarter, maybe he could have prevented this entire situation. Maybe this was his fault. If he'd done something different, maybe Timon would have been all right.

It wasn't fair.

"Okay, okay, I do kind of like the kid and think of him as mine sometimes," admitted the meerkat. "And if you're okay with that sort of thing, then I guess it isn't that big a deal." He waited until the lion stopped smiling at him in a mildly smug way. "But I do have a question for you. About all of this," he waved his paws around to indicate the fog that engulfed everything in sight. "If this is the whole 'dead kings of the past' place, what in the world am I doing here? I'm pretty sure I'm not royalty and I know I'm not a lion. If I was, I'd probably not be almost eaten so many times. So how'd I end up here?"

"I was trying to explain a complicated and potentially upsetting concept to a young cub. Specifically, I was trying to comfort my son with the idea that someone would always be with him. I planned to describe it more effectively when he was older," Mufasa explained. "I told him that the great kings of the past looked down from the stars. That's true, but a more complete version would be to say that great leaders of the past come here. Regardless of gender or species."

"Great… great leaders?" asked Timon skeptically. "That still doesn't explain why I'm here."

"True leaders are those who guide and protect others. They do what is best for those around them and find ways to improve their lives. They are the ones who change the world," he described. "Whether you believe it or not, you are a great leader. Your old colony is safe and living without fear because of your actions. Simba is alive and ruling the Pridelands because both you and Pumbaa protected and guided him. And if you need further proof that you are a great leader, remember where you are right now."

"So, I qualified as a leader and ended up here when I died because I dragged a bunch of meerkats to the oasis and helped raise a lion," the small mammal summarized. "Sounds perfectly logical to me."

"Who said you were dead, Timon?" a new voice asked, coming from the mist unexpectedly and causing the meerkat to jump in surprise.

The shape that emerged was another feline, but it was one that he recognized immediately. The lioness was someone that Timon had meet a while ago, when he first arrived at Pride Rock along with Pumbaa and Simba. Sarabi took her place beside Mufasa, looking younger than when the small mammal last saw her. In fact, she looked even younger than when he first met her. It didn't long for him to figure out how she ended up here; someone had to keep things from getting too out of hand when Scar was running things.

"Uh… hi?" he greeted uncomfortably. "Nice to see you again. You look great, by the way. Death seems to agree with you, Sarabi."

She smiled, "Thank you, Timon. It is nice to see you again, too. I just wish the circumstances were different."

"Yeah, but I was the crazy one who decided to jump on the lion," he shrugged. "Natural instincts are supposed to discourage that type of behavior, but…" He stopped abruptly as he realized what the lioness said when she first stepped out of the fog. "What do you mean 'who said you were dead'? Are you saying I'm not dead?"

"No, you're not dead yet. You're dying," she explained.

"And how is that better? It just means I'm still in the process, but I'm apparently close enough to be wandering around here," pointed out Timon.

"You are very close to being dead," Mufasa agreed. "In fact, the easiest and most likely outcome would be for you to finish dying and remain here."

"I'm sensing that there is an Option B involved in your explanation," remarked the small mammal. "Preferably one that is less fatal."

"And far more likely to fail," Sarabi explained. "Simba's lost so much in his life and neither of us could prevent it. Do you realize how much it would hurt him to have you die? So close to where Mufasa died and so soon after my death?"

The lion reached a paw down and scraped it across the fog below them. The movement was similar to how he would dig a small hole in dirt. Where he cleared back the mist, Timon could peer down. It was a little weird; he could see the savanna below him. It was like looking down at the landscape from the top of a tree or a cliff. He could see the canyon directly below him and, if he looked harder, he could make out a small, curled-up shape that was lighter than anything else below. After a moment of looking, Timon realized it was Simba. He'd recognize the kid anywhere, even from this odd angle and distance. The feline was curled up around something, something tiny that he couldn't quite see properly.

"We brought you back here because there is still a small chance," Mufasa stated. "You aren't completely dead yet; merely broken and dying. If you're willing to try, you might survive."

"Let's see: certain death or slim chance to live," remarked the meerkat dryly. "Which do you think I'm going to pick?"

Sarabi leaned over and rubbed her face against Timon affectionately, whisper, "If you do survive, take care of my son."

"I will. After all, I'm the brains of the outfit," he responded, smiling slightly. "Just tell me what to do."

"You go back," Mufasa answered simply, nudging the meerkat with his nose and knocking him through the gap in the cloudbank.

Okay, one last chapter to finish things off. Writing dialogue for Mufasa is kind of hard to do. He's kind of like Optimus Prime from "Transformers" due to the fact he's this really impressive and majestic figure who always seems to have a certain amount of dignity. I tried my best, however. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and that you'll like the ending. Remember, I love feedback. Thanks.