Disclaimer: I don't own The Lion King or any of its characters but they belong to The Walt Disney Company. This is non-profit fanfiction for character study and entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringmenetn intended.
PG-13 (For some violence and I don't know what will become of this. Rating may go up to M in future chapters.)
Main characters:
Simba, Nala, Sarabi, Mufasa, Zira, Nuka, Kiara.

Author's note: My vision of what happened from the end of The Lion King to the opening scene of Simba's Pride. This follows the movies' storyline which means that Kiara never had any siblings. And I know that in canon there were no other children but Simba and Nala and no other males in the pride but Mufasa and Scar but in my personal canon, there was – it's more fun and it doesn't affect the main storyline.

Though I wrapped this in shakespearean covers, this story itself probably won't be much so apart from the film base. I just wanted to tribute the Hamlet aspects of the film, which I very much appreciate about it.


Chapter 1: My Mind's Eye

Pouring rain washed over the barren African savannah, putting out the fire from which ashes a life would spring for a new, golden era. It was getting darker as the fire went out for the night was falling. At the tip of a high, pointy cliff was standing a large, golden-brown male lion. The water dripping and falling from his large, red mane and sad face. He could've been crying and no one would notice. He was looking down at his kingdom though there was not much to see. Just dead land, and tiny specks moving around it, right under his feet; his loyal subjects who had just accepted him as their king. He was glad this place was so high up. He needed a few moments alone.

Simba in his majestic spot and position, may have looked confident and strong, but inside he was a scared little boy thinking he had made a mistake by entering an adult's game. Perhaps he should've let Nala rule for a time? Perhaps he wasn't ready at all and would disappoint his father? He was already almost seven years old, but he felt so much younger. And he'd have at least that many years to live but somehow it seemed so little time to learn...and succeed. He supposed they would be satisfied with less than great king after having suffered king Scar for so many years, but...he still wanted so bad to be just like Dad. Simba raised his gaze up to the sky and refused to close his eyes even though rain drops occasionally hit his eyes unpleasantly. He was hoping to see him again or at least hear, but there was only dark clouds, hiding even the twinkling star he believed to be his father. Strong longing pushed uncertainty aside as he continued staring, and remembering. But only for a moment, as then he whispered.

"I am your son, but will that be enough...anymore?"

Silently he glanced back down at his kingdom, turned around and started to softly paw back to the Pride Rock's caves.

'Will I be great enough a king to join my forefathers, to join him when the sun sets on my time?', the sudden thought gripped his mind and then his heart, with painful strength. His breathing grew rapid and he forced the fear to the back of his mind, so not to cry, because he feared he wouldn't be able to stop for days, perhaps weeks. The thought of never getting to be with his Daddy again, was too much to take. And then there was all that uncle Scar had done and revealed...

As he walked down the rock, to the caves, he caught a few hyenas fleeing the Pride Lands. He bared his teeth and growled at their direction, to focus on something less significant for a moment and to let the pain out in some way. He arrived at the caves and chose the one located at the most private and safest spot. He recalled it having been his and his family's private cave, for they had not always wanted to sleep with the entire pride and had of course wanted alone time too. Technically he was home wherever he stood within the borders of Pride Lands but currently that specific cave was the only place where he really felt like home. He stepped inside and shook his wet fur and mane as dry as he could, hoping that no one would think of looking for him from there right away. He laid down in the far corner of the cave and laid his head on his forepaws.

The sound of the pouring rain did not reach the back of the cave so loudly. It was almost pitch dark except for the distant nighttime glow from the opening of the cave. He tried to entertain himself with memories of growing up in Timon and Pumbaa's gang. To think that once he was a proud prince who wouldn't have befriended a little annoying meerkat and a slow-wit warthog no matter how much their hearts were in the right place, but then came a time when he would've died for the said duo and tried to hide and deny his royal blood.

Now he realized that he he'd never felt truly free and careless, his father's death and the blame had eaten him up inside every moment of those years, even if days had been better than nights and some nights dreamless haze. And those memories were constantly interrupted by images of Scar. Scar throwing Dad off the cliff, leading the hyenas into his home to take over its rightful owners, throwing Dad off the cliff, smiling evil smile from the top of the Pride Rock, throwing Dad off the cliff, striking Sarabi unconscious...How many times had that happened? And what had he done to Nala? Tears of rage and pain filled up his eyes and every muscle of his body strained. For a moment he regretted letting the hyenas eat that monster. He wanted to kill him himself. Over and over again. But another part of him felt just pain; deep, unbearable pain. For so long he had loved his uncle with all his heart but in the end had learned that all he'd ever got in return was lies, murder and abuse...Utter betrayal.

But...what if he wasn't dead? What if he somehow survived? Rage drowned under panic and he raised his head quickly and stared at the opening's direction as if he had just seen Scar enter. His dark brown fur, skinny, rough features and narrow face, pitch black mane and those green, psychotic eyes were burned in his mind for the rest of his life. It was hard, or too scary, to imagine he'd ever thought he'd seen love in those eyes. But there was no one there. He lowered his head back onto his paws, his eyes glowing in the dark, his intense, hateful gaze fixed at the opening.

Some time later when he had let go of the worst paranoid state and half closed his eyes, there was a shape of a lion but it didn't alarm Simba. Instead a familiar scent calmed him down a bit, the look in his eyes softened into a rather sad one. The sandy colored, elderly lioness with black rings in her ears and friendly, trust-stirring facial features, was now in sight.

"Simba...?" Sarabi called out, from the distance, her voice warm and steady.

Simba's tone of voice was detached but a touch of fondness clearly there, as he decided to let her know he'd heard her.

Half-whispering, he replied, "Mother?"

She approach her son calmly and curiously. Apart from the battle earlier that night, she had last seen him when he had been just a little boy, little child who could easily fit into her arms and whom she knew thoroughly and well. This young man here was completely different case. Although she didn't care whatever he had become, she'd love him nonetheless, but she did wish she could still close him into her arms the way she used to. Especially after all these years of believing he had died, a horrible death, at that young age. Something in Simba's tone and choice of phrase had her restrain her desires to cuddle her child. She wondered if he had grown apart from parent-child bonding in his years, or had he had someone to play mother to him? Would she ever again hear him call her 'mom'? She chose not to ask these question right now, for a number of reasons.

"Simba, we need you to meet someone...well, a few...many...well, we need you," she spoke quietly, not sure how to introduce the matter. Without a word, Simba got up on four paws and followed his mother out of the cave and the inner area of Pride Rock.

It had stopped raining but the clouds still hung over the kingdom, clouds so heavy the moon had to do its best to cast any light over the struggling land.

"Sir," Zazu said, flying to Simba and landing on a rock next to him. Simba looked at the little hornbill bird who took a little bow to him. This had Simba smile for a blessed moment. The smile was strained and barely noticeable but still a smile. The last time he had seen Zazu, the bird had called him a brat and numerous other not-so-respective names because of his childhood mischief, and it was now at Zazu's genuine respect that he realized what a horrible child he had been when it came to this member of the royal family's inner circle. Still he found himself wondering what would Zazu say if he called him Mr. Banana Beak today? Simba was drawn back to the current moment with Zazu's next words.

"They are part of the pride, sir," the bird stated, gesturing somewhere with his right wing. Simba followed his direction and and his eyes met a large gro0up of lionesses who looked...like...Scar? The same type of body build and fur coat...and black lines around their eyes...Some of them had their claws extent like Scar used to always have them.

"Since when?" Simba asked in neutral tone and stared at the group with rather stunned expression, as he wasn't sure what to think at the moment.

"Some year ago," Nala answered as she appeared from behind and took her place by his side. With her color of very light shade of sand, she was quite a couple with her golden-brown, red-maned king. They had not yet been married but it hardly mattered. They'd been betrothed since infancy and eventually really fallen in love, so they most definitely would be married sooner or later.

"Why didn't you bring them to fight Scar?" Simba asked, looking at Nala. He hated how he knew nothing about the kingdom he was supposed to get back to functioning. It didn't really help his uncertainty.

"They were hunting. They were the only ones who still bothered to try," Nala explained. "And Zira here," she nodded towards a darkish brown, angry-looking lioness with a stripe on her head. She appeared to be around Simba's age. "She has a young son and gave birth to two more children just a few weeks ago, so she needed to take care of them..." she went on.

"But mostly because I don't trust her," Nala finished her explanation, not even trying to hide disgust from her tone. Zira obviously loved Scar. Scar! No one in her right mind would've loved that man! Zira had always looked at Scar that way, and once Scar had named her son as his heir a few days ago, she had spoken little of anything else. She had bragged about it even though no one else even had children to compete. Long before that, they had felt the need to keep a close eye on Zira, as Sarabi was getting old and weaker.

"Where did you come from?" Simba demanded to know, addressing directly Zira. The rising realization that these had been taken in by Scar, combined to the way Zira looked at him with absolute hatred, had the king put on his guard again and not even try to hide his hatred either as his gaze was fixed at Zira. The lioness made her way to the front of the group and sat down. Her rather manly looks and cold, strong being made her come off as the obvious leader. She held her head up, in proud and arrogant way.

"We had been wandering for years, without finding a lasting place to call home," she said, her gaze piercing into Simba's brown eyes. "I was expecting a child, so we really needed a place to stay for good. " She lowered her head slightly, in almost menacing way but did not make any obviously threatening movement.

"Then we came across this beautiful land and king Scar was so noble that let us join his pride..." she finished their story and though she tried to hide most of her adoration for Scar, Simba could catch a lot of it there. The king's being turned cold and he seemed to shut down to a degree where perhaps even his father, Mufasa, might not be able to reach him.

"There was nothing noble in Scar!" he heard himself almost shouting, his tone dripping poison. Zira didn't say a word, she just sat there very still, staring. Her gaze was no longer angry or threatening but cold and curious. Simba could only begin to imagine all the sick and twisted reasons why Scar would want to have such a huge pride and the reasons why this Zira would love the madman as much as it seemed she did. It was obvious she was holding back something.

Simba's cold gaze scanned all the strangers behind Zira and even if they might not really have been, to Simba they appeared as evil as Zira in the front. As all of them were in the least unease and restless for not knowing what would happen next.

Then it suddenly hit him: Why was he even thinking about this for so long? Father would never let these lions stay! They were Scar's heirs in at least some way and that was one way too many! Simba was the only child, so he had no idea what bond of brothers meant, especially to a loving person such as Mufasa had been. And he was too immature, too hurt and scared and his kingship training left horribly unfinished, to even begin thinking like his wise father. He didn't even know all his father's laws and at the moment, couldn't care less. These lionesses were a potential danger to him and his family, and would anyway always remind him of Scar. He did what he believed was right. Yet as he turned around and leaped towards the pointy cliff way up there, his being was not that of a wise king but more of a young boy about to get revenge. The newborns were probably Scar's! And that Zira might have been his mate!

Everyone stared after him, surprised. They had not expected him to pass judgment this quickly yet that's what seemed to be happening as the king was going for the very spot at Pride Rock wherein all significant royal events usually happened. Simba reached the highest cliff and calmly made his way to its tip. He looked back at the lionesses and Zazu-and now he found also Timon, Pumbaa and the baboon Rafiki there–and announced his judgment, raising his voice so that they all could hear. They were not quite as far away as they had been during the reclaim of the throne.

"In order to erase all the remains of Scar's reign and to protect my family and loyal subjects from harm, all those who joined this pride through Scar, are EXILED!" he shouted, not caring if he should exile only Zira or all of them. They all looked way too much like Scar and apparently had been following Zira before, so no way to earn any trust points from him. "Also those born to these outsiders, are exiled! This exile is for life! You all must be out of Pride Lands before sunrise or else...", he paused for a thought. Or else what?

"Returning to Pride Lands will be punished by DEATH!" he announced passionately and his words got more dramatic tone by his voice being the only thing sounding in the dark night.

"Now, take your children and GET OUT."

A moment of silence passed by with no one saying or doing anything, until then, the now outsider lionesses started to slowly walk away from the Pride Rock, some looked shocked, some depressed. Zira's being and emotions changed rapidly between those two and rage. She just tried to act cool and calm. Only, the occasional twitching and leaping and baring of teeth told everyone that she was not. She couldn't believe this was her life! Just this morning she'd been about to reach her dreams and now she had lost everything. Except her children, of course...Her children...Her youngest son was supposed to become the new king! Scar himself had chosen Kovu even though was not his, or any of her children's father. But Kovu being chosen had encouraged her fantasy about becoming the queen. But now Scar was dead, Kovu would never become king and she'd never become queen... All because of Simba. She felt so mad but so helpless. She wouldn't go far...She would stay close to Pride Lands...keep an eye on the kingdom...in case there would ever be a chance to have revenge...for Scar.

Returning down to the remaining pride, king Simba looked pleased, and he remarked that so did everyone else, only strengthening his genuine belief that he had done the right thing. Only Sarabi didn't seem genuinely pleased, but this Simba didn't notice, or didn't want to notice.

"Let's go to sleep now," he suggested to his pride. He wasn't smiling but his tone was much lighter than at any other point that night. "Tomorrow we'll start spreading the word that Scar is dead and the rightful king has returned. Perhaps the herds will too. The nature will recover in time. Until then, we too have to find another land to live on but protect these lands from being taken over. But for now, try to rest," he told everyone and walked away, back towards his private cave, followed by Nala. He doubted he was going to get any rest for a long, long time.

If he was to be fair, the only ones he really remembered from his childhood were his mother, Nala and Nala's mother, Sarafina. But anyone he had the slightest, haziest memory of was trustworthy, and basically anyone who looked nothing like Scar...

As he laid there cuddling with Nala, gently laying his head on her neck and right foreleg over her back, he heard voices from the opening.

"Eh...I hope you don't mind, but we'd really rather sleep here with you two than with a pride of starving lionesses," Timon said quietly as he knocked on the rocky wall at the doorway as if his tiny knuckles could produce any sound on it. "No offense!" he added quickly.

"Yeah, Simba, they don't yet all know that we're your friends!" Pumbaa stated, standing next to his meerkat friend.

"What do you worry, they'd have to be half dead to want a warthog!" Timon exclaimed.

"And they'd probably get just hungrier by eating you," Pumbaa came back and they both realized their fear might not be as real as it had felt a moment ago. But they still didn't feel too safe with the idea of going back.

"Oh, come on, guys! Of course you'll sleep here with us!" Simba exclaimed and sleepy Nala nodded as a sign of approval. Even though Simba would've rather spent this night alone with Nala, he just as much wanted to protect his dear friends. He also felt guilty as he realized that he hadn't given one thought to if those two were alright, until now, and thus felt ashamed.

"Simba, perhaps we could teach them to eat bugs!" Pumbaa suggested eagerly as he and Timon walked over, closer to Simba and Nala.

"Yeah, it worked with you!" Timon added, certain of the plan's success should they try to execute it.

Simba gave a sleepy smile. It actually hadn't worked as well as the duo probably thought it had. For the first few years and especially the first months, he had hunted and eaten many small animals too and not just bugs. He had had to, it was in his nature and he had noticed that with too strict bug diet, he was risking his friends' lives. When he allowed himself a bird or such from time to time, he had less serious craving for the nearest piece of meet every time he woke up in the mornings. But he had kept this a secret so not to scare his friends.

"I was just one little boy...These are tens of grown up lions...So, I doubt..." he stated, laid his head back on Nala's neck and closed his eyes.

He was running as fast as he could in a deep canyon where the ground was shaking. The time was running out, he felt it in his bones. He was small, oh, so small. Succession would be impossible, but he fixated his attention on trying, his gaze to the lifeless body of his father on the dusty ground.

"Wait, Dad! Hold on!" he cried out desperately as he tried to pick up his pace even more. If only he got to touch him just in time, all would be well. Even if it was just a slight brush of his whiskers on the mighty lion's mane. He was getting nearer and hope inside him grew. But the ground was shaking more now and he could hear the thunder of hundreds of hooves hitting it in haste as they ran for their lives. Just when he was about to leap on his father's body, a herd of wildebeest ran over him, in cloud of dust mangling his body and crushing his skull as the darkness took him.

He woke up at Pride Rock on sunny day and found Nala and the other children cheerfully playing tag nearby. Happily he ran to join them but just when he reached them, they seemed to be running scared as if from a real danger. He looked up behind himself and saw a long shadow on the ground. Shadow in a shape of a skinny, grown up male lion, approaching. This was one of those moments when one had to be brave, right? Now he could show he was his father's son! He let out a mighty roar that sounded more of a pathetic meow just like it had at the Elephant Graveyard. But it mattered not.

"Oh, uncle Scar!" he sighed in relief. "You should eat more, you look really creepy sometimes," he commented, looking up at his uncle's strangely blank face.

"Uncle Scar?" he repeated, his voice growing faint.

"As you wish, Your Majesty!" Scar replied fiercely and the next thing Simba knew was feeling his uncle's powerful jaws breaking his ribs and hearing himself screaming in horror and pain.

He was still alive when Scar carried his aching little body up towards the tip of Pride Rock. The journey seemed to take forever and it was totally dark once they reached it. Except for the fire roaring below. Scar took him by the neck with his right paw, and held him over the ledge. Simba could see there, in the fire, a huge pack of starving hyenas covered in blood. They were staring up intensively, waiting. He could feel the hot air all around him.

"Good night, sweet prince," said Scar coldly, and let go. Simba screamed as he fell like a rag-doll towards the hungry mouths of hundreds of hyenas, trying to catch and tear him apart already in mid-air.

Just before he would've been ripped into pieces, he woke up, screaming for his Dad. He looked around in the silent cave, finding himself on his back, rolled over away from Nala, and Timon and Pumbaa sleeping soundly further away. The three appeared to be sleeping heavy as they hadn't woken up by his scream. He was not small anymore but he felt small, and helpless. If lions could sweat, he would've been covered with it. But his eyes, they filled up with tears as he rolled on his stomach and got up on four paws. A sob escaped him as he silently pawed out of the cave and the first tear forced its way out on to his cheek despite of his best efforts to not let it. He realized he had never really given a good cry about his father's death in the first place. The nightmarish days and nights at the desert right after he'd escaped the hyenas into exile, had been too intense for that. He'd been too depressed to even cry, and felt too insecure to let his guard down like that. And in the years with Timon and Pumbaa he'd been too afraid they'd hear or see him and started to poke around his past...

The moon was shining brightly now as he walked around Pride Rock and took a place in its shadow. Covering his face with his right paw and leg, he finally let it out. The endless-feeling tears and sobs took with them a tiny amount of the pain and sorrow of six years, but it didn't help much. The pain of a family member's betrayal and loss was something that he'd never fully get over. When he finally wasn't able to cry anymore, he moved his paw away and just stared ahead with an unbelievable headache. He tried to imagine the barren land as it was the last time he'd been there and as he hoped it would once more be. He tried to imagine life there. A new generation, perhaps. Where were the other males and all those boys who ought to now be grown up like him? What had Scar done to them? Hopefully just driven away...Perhaps they'd find their way back home, some day. Simba lifted his face to look at the cliff where he'd been crowned as the king. He wondered...could he ever stand there thinking of just how he was once blessed there, and not of how he had once almost died there, learning the darkest and most painful truth in his life?

Desperation and lack of faith started to take over his courage again but just when he was about to fall apart inside, perhaps go insane, he felt something strong and warm brush against his teary face. He didn't see anything but it felt a little like a large paw gently cupping his chin and he found himself looking up into the sky again, at a particular star even though he had not been searching for it. It twinkled as if just for him. For the first time in all his adult years, he smiled easily and genuinely. He felt safe again as now he knew his daddy would always be as close as skin even if he'd never see him again the way he did back in the jungle. And he would always be there for him–just as he had promised long ago.

He smelled her scent long before he heard her arrive. He didn't turn to look at her. He couldn't bring himself to.

"Mother...Can you ever forgive me?" he whispered when Sarabi sat down beside him.

"For what?" the lioness asked with utter, sincere wonder in her tone as she looked down at her son.

"For being away for far too long even though I was alive and healthy...And he hurt you..." Simba explained, pain clearly showing at the last words. Her brown eyes filled with love and sadness, she spoke softly.

"Oh but I do not blame you, for anything. When you told you're responsible for Mufasa's death, which naturally would've been an accident, I was so scared and didn't want to believe that you'd have to live with such a pain for the rest of your days." She crouched down to gently nuzzle his face, her own eyes closed. "You are my son. There's nothing you can do to make me love you less. Please remember...A mother's love is unconditional and without end."

Simba smiled again, feeling peaceful for the blessed moment with his mother and the spirit of his father close beside him. Even though he couldn't see him, he felt he was right there. He thought of his mother's words and recalled the emotions he had when hearing his father's words in the jungle. It had not been the words themselves that had turned his life around, but learning from between the lines that his father still loved him, regardless of all that he'd done. He felt bittersweet too, for had he understood the concept of parental love already as a child, maybe everything would be a whole lot differently.

"Do you think he's really dead?" he asked fearfully.

"I know he is. We went to chase the hyenas away and I saw him. There was nothing but bones left of him at that point." Sarabi confirmed and Simba felt a heavy load melt away from his heart. Though the nightmares would surely keep on coming.

"And he wasn't always that violent and angry. Mostly when the food source ran out...when I suppose he realized why their father didn't choose him, but he couldn't admit it. He even made a law to prohibit anyone from speaking Mufasa's name..." Sarabi told, looking up at Mufasa's star, hoping she didn't come off as defending Scar for that most certainly was not her means. Simba was anyway too poisoned against Scar to pick up anything but the negative bits of her words, so he didn't comment on them.

"Are any of Zira's children his?" he asked, not sure if he wished so or not.

"All I know is that he chose the new boy as his heir. He would've trained him to become the next king..." Sarabi answered truthfully.

"How can you be alive and what had you finally able to return?" she changed the subject to something she'd wondered all night. Her friendly eyes were curiously observing Simba again and she laid down beside him. He didn't answer right away. Images of the stampede filled his mind and horror gripped him for a moment.

"Dad...saved me. But he...Then Scar came to me as I...laid in Dad's arms and Scar blamed it on me...I already did blame myself anyway...because I'd practiced roaring and the echo made it sound quite impressive and it seemed that it caused the stampede..." he spoke in pain but with growing ease word by word. This was his mother...loving, forgiving mother, and they were all alone.

"He told me you wouldn't understand and I believed him..." he said, lowering his head in shame, but Sarabi lovingly nuzzled him again. A sad smile played on his lips.

"He told me my only chance was to run away and never return, so I did. I think I was dying within couple of days at the desert. Did you meet Timon and Pumbaa?"

Sarabi shook her head, though uncertainly.

"Timon is a meerkat and Pumbaa is a warthog," Simba told and Sarabi realized he had seen them but just not talked to them yet.

"They saved my life and took me in. We lived in a jungle. I guess we were bachelors leading care and responsibility free lifestyle. Or they were, I just tried to," Simba went on.

"Couple of days ago Nala found Pumbaa," he explained and of course didn't need to explain in any more detail what had happened next.

"But she got me only seriously considering to come back. I didn't want to believe what she said about Scar...and I was still afraid to face my past..." his voice grew more quiet.

Sarabi tilted her head, curious for more.

"Then this old monkey...baboon...found me...what's his name again...?" Simba pondered, uncertain if it had even been mentioned that night. He felt a little silly; he had already accepted this baboon as his close friend, but still couldn't recall his name.

"Rafiki, an old friend of your father's." Sarabi reminded him.

"He took me to a little lake, and there Dad came to me," he finished his story. Mother and son laid there for a few moments in silence, thinking of all the madness and the beauty in this sorry world.

Some time later Simba had rolled over onto his back and relaxed. Their ears caught faint sounds from further away but Simba didn't react immediately as he was feeling calmer now, having opened up his heart a bit. Sarabi did raise his eyes to check the situation and seeing the arrival, she raised her head and stared in wonder. Simba was shocked to see a young face hovering over his own, upside down. This moka colored, brown eyed boy was not much older than he used to be when he'd ran away. The boy's eyes were pleading. Simba couldn't do or say anything for a brief moment. He had not expected to see anyone new anymore.

"Who in the world are you?" he asked, his tone not angry but clearly unfriendly as were his eyes.

"N-Nuka... Y-your Highness," the boy stuttered, taking a few steps away, crouching, and ears laid back. The humble child's skinny and lonely appearance looked even more pitiful in the barren land lit by the cold moon.


Author's note:
In November 2012: I am utterly grateful for all the reviews and your interest in this story, and so sorry I haven't been able to continue this. :C I had only an outline for the plot and inspiration for details hasn't stricken me strong enough yet, and moreso, to begin with I have a huge problem in deciding what Nuka's motive for being there should be. He's about to ask if he could stay in Simba's pride, and sooner or later I think he's going to be a member. But would he be there asking now because he sincerely wants to stay with Simba's pride, feeling unappreciated by his mother - or to please his mother who sent him to try and stay as an inside connection for future revenge? Or perhaps a mixture of both? I always felt that Nuka's a mummy's boy but had great potential to become a good guy. Maybe I should watch the movies again, to get on TLK mood. :)