Marco

When Marco dies he is one-hundred-twenty-nine years old. He is very old in the eyes of civilians and ancient by pirate standards - for pirates are known for dying young. It's been longer than he cares to count since the War of the Best and Marco doesn't look a day older on the outside. But inside he is tired. He's grown weary with the world since his father died along with Ace and so many of his other shipbrothers. It's been over five decades since he left the New Whitebeard Pirates - named in honor of Edward Newgate and originally led and crewed by his old sons and daughters - to let the youngsters have their rein over the seas.

At this point Haruta is the only one of the Division Commanders from the original Whitebeards left, and Marco feels old. He still visits, of course. Because even though most of his original family is gone they're still his family. But for the most part he travels solo. And that's how he dies.

He dies of drowning, of all things. But it's not really of all things becasue since Marco ate his blasted Devil Fruit the sea has been the only thing that can kill him. Even though he for the most part has avoided it with a simple flap of his wings he can't this time because the Bounty Hunters who had ambushed him had placed him in Sea Stone chains. Marco doesn't mind awfully much. It saddens him that he didn't have the chance to take farewell of his remaining family, but that's alright.

He doesn't pray. He has never believed in any god and he's not about to start just because he's dying. It hurts more than he'd imgained though. He hasn't truly felt physical pain like this since he was twenty-one, before he ate the Phoenix Fruit. Though it does come pretty close to the pain he felt after the reality of both Oyaji, Ace, Thatch and numerous of his other brothers and sisters being dead hit him.

His lungs are burning from lack of oxygen and dark spots are appearing before his eyes. He feels numb. His limbs can't even trash as they so urge to do because the sea has him completely paralyzed. He's sinking. Huh, guess the sea truly does hate Devil Fruit Users. It feels like he's being swallowed by the deeps on which he has lived most of his life. He truly does live and die by the sea, doens't he?

He forces his head to tilt upwards to take a last look at the sun. It's nothing but a white blur to him anymore. He closes his eyes. There's no need to keep them open now. He feels like he is slipping away. What feels like minutes pass but he is still there in the dark, aware as ever. His eyes open again. The sun is still there but it's not getting smaller anymore. Instead it's getting bigger, closer. Suddenly his limbs don't feel paralyzed anymore and he moves them experimentally, they work.

His lungs however are still burning and he hurries to start kicking towards the surface. He doesn't have time to wonder how or why he still feels so alive and instead he just moves.

He finally breaks the surface. The deep breath of air he inhales must be the sweetest breath he has ever drawn.

Marco looks around him and is shocked to the point that he nearly goes under the surface again when he notices the humongous ship bare yards away. A shout from the ship brings him out of his daze however.

"Man overboard!" he hears and the voice sounds so much like Thatch that Marco almost chokes.

Three figures appear near the railing, gazing down at him curiously. He hears others too, but they're too far away for him to make out the looks of, saying things like 'another drowner, huh?' and 'maybe he just fell out of his boat?'. But his attention is soon drawn to the three by the railings when two of them lets out loud whoops of joy and the third drops a rope he'd been carrying previously. He goes under again when he hears the achingly familiar cries and sees the even more familiar figures and his legs stop working.

He immediately sinks like a stone and inhales a mouthful of salty sea water because his mouth had fallen open and forgotten to close. He hears a few panicked shouts above before the water splashes soundly a few feet away. Strong arms grab him around the middle and hoist him above the surface with practiced ease. Marco coughs heavily as his body attempts to rid itself of the sea water while his saviour pats him on the back a few times like he's used to it..

Marco looks down at his rescuer and of course it's Namur, he's had his fair share of saving drowing Devil Fruit Users in his days after all. The thing is that Namur died sixty-nine years ago by the hand of of bigoted humans who had been taught to fear those they did not know and hurt that which they feared. There had been nothing but blood and ashes left of those people when the Whietbeards were done with them. So maybe Marco really is dead after all.

Namur grins at him. To anyone else it would probably look really bloody scary but to Marco it feels more like coming home because it's Namur and they haven't seen each other in nearly half a century.

"Welcome to the afterlife, Marco," he's told before the fishman starts a steady backstroke towards the great ship. It's even bigger than the Moby Dick and Marco wonders idly if it's to accomodate to the crew of the New Whitebeard Pirates when they inevitably die. He looks towards the stern in hopes of catching the name of this new ship and almost laughs when he spots the words Moby Dick II written neatly there.

It doesn't even take them a minute to reach Moby Dick II. Namur is fast, he's always been. Someone throws a rope and and they climb up quickly. The motion is familiar and easy, despite the fact that he feels oddly weak but at the same time stronger than before. He does feel strange, like something is missing even though everything he could ever miss (except maybe Haruta and the New Whitebeard Pirates) is on the ship he's just boarded. He doesn't get a moment more to mull this over, however, as he is thrown to the deck by a body as soon as his dripping wet shoes touch the wooden boards.

The person on top of him is small, surprisingly strong and - judging by the small lumps in the chest area - female. He looks down and is met with a head of red that he knows went grey three decades ago. And now he's really confused because he'd thought that he was dead but now a woman he knows to be alive is lying on top of him. How she managed to live to be so old is beyond him and another question in and of itself, though. He's always blamed it on her being too stubborn to die.

"Haruta?" he finally manages at last after a moment of silent musings. Because that's clearly who it is, it can't be anyone but the former 12th Division Commander.

"Marco, I'm so glad! I was afraid you were gonna have to live another hundred years with no one but the rookie brats to keep you company," she tells him happily and it sounds funny coming from her mouth because it seems to him like she's reversed back to the same brat she was when their family was still whole, both on the inside and the outside.

"Haruta, that's rude!" a voice admonishes from somewhere to his left, "the man just died, you're supposed to offer your condolences or something!" the voice continues and earns a few chuckles from all around as Haruta sits up - now straddling Marco's chest - and looks at the speaker with a pout.

"Hush you, you're just as happy that he's here as I am," she responds and sticks out her tongue.

Marco has during all of this been staring uncharacteristically dumbfoundedly at Haruta, trying to make sense of everything happening. Maybe he is dreaming? For how else could both Haruta and Namur and the voice of Thatch be here?

When he finally regains his voice Haruta is still bantering with the one who'd admonished her and seems to have forgotten that she's currently sitting on Marco's chest. He clears his throat and gives the young-but-actually-old commander a pointed look when she turns her gaze down to him. She gives him a malicious grin but gets of him all the same and allows him to sit up.

Before he's even had the chance to move to stand however he finds a familiar hand stuck in his face as an offer of help. He grabs the hand without hesitation and allows himself to be hoisted to his feet and into the embrace of Thatch. His friend - his brother - squeezes him tight for a moment before pulling back with a grin.

"Finally! We've been waiting for you forever, Marco!" He exclaims happily and Marco can't help but agree becasue suddenly he feels every single day spent without his brothers painstakingly clearly.

"So have I, yoi," he answers somberly.

"Oi Pineapple Head, wipe that mopey look of your face, you're here now!" a cheerful voice pipes up from behind. None of his former annoyance at the nickname Thatch and Ace had given him surfaces. Instead a wave of nostalgia rushes over him and he turns to greet Ace with a lazy smile that once had seemed permanent on his face but had faded into a blank look years ago.

"There we go!" Ace grins back and wraps an arm around Marco's shoulder the same way Marco once had done when congratulating the younger man on becoming 2nd Division Commander.

Now that he's been released Marco finally has the chance to take a look around. The new ship looks just like the first Moby Dick and has nearly the same feeling to it as well, the feeling of home. But that's not what makes him the happiest at all, for around him is his family, and that makes him happier than anything else. There's Jozu, now with both of his arms back and his previously white hair dark again. There's Izo who looks younger and more beautiful than Marco has seen him in a long time. There's Blamenco with all his teeth again, though with a strange absence of pockets anywhere. Every single one of his brothers and sisters look younger and healthier than ever. Oddly enough Marco is sure that Thatch's crescent moon scar is still there.

Izo spots the confused look on his face and understands and hurries to explain everything;

"When we die we are all reversed to our prime condition, the way we were in our glory days, if you will. If there is a scar or mark that you've regretted having, or a limb you're missing, then that thing will return to the way it should be."

"That's why I've still got my scar, and Oyaji has most of his and and some others are missing," Thatch adds.

"But you don't need to be restored 'cause of your Devil Fruit," Haruta pipes up with a mock frown.

"That's another thing, Devil Fruits respawn when their consumers die so we don't get to keep their powers here. We're just humans now, dead humans." Is the input Ace makes. The speech they make sounds well rehearsed, like they've had to explain this many times before and would be sighing at the repetition if it wasn't for their excitement. And that's probably true, Marco supposes, as he's far from the first to arrive on Moby Dick II.

Marco nods his understanding as he realises what the feeling that something is missing is. He is no longer Marco the Phoenix. Now he is just Marco. He's lived with the ability to transform any body part into that of a flaming bird for so long that it feels very strange now that it's gone. He has many times cursed the fact that his fruit up until now had refused to let him die and join his family, but he knows that he's going to miss his wings, talons and fire all the same.

Then another realisation hits him. If he is dead, what is Haruta doing here? He voices this question to his family.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Commander shrieks in answer earning quite a few chuckles from the crowd.

"You're supposed to be alive! You were just as energetic as you always are last time I saw yo-"

Before Haruta can answer and before Marco can even finish his question they are interrupted by a rumbling voice.

"Are you brats going to stand around chatting all day or are we going to welcome Marco to the ship?" Marco almost cries in joy when he hears the voice of Whitebeard - Oyaji - carry over the crowd.

Realisation seems to sweep over the crowd and a few even slaps their faces when it does. His crewmates part like the Red Sea in order to let him approach the Chair. Marco smiles - grins even - when he lays eyes on his father. He has risen from his chair to greet Marco and Marco beams because even though his many scars remain there is no sign of medical equipment meant to keep him alive near Newgate or his chair, which means that he's completely healthy and looks younger than he has in a long time.

Marco rushes forward as quickly as he can while keeping his dignity intact and Newgate lowers to one knee to embrace him. His hands are big and warm on Marco's back and he feels like crying again because he is home.

It doesn't take more than a few moments after they part before someone cheers and someone else shouts happily about having a party to celebrate.

Marco looks up to meet his father's eyes and says;

"I'm home, Oyaji."

"Welcome home, my son," Whitebeard answers.

AN: Well... I hope that didn't go too horribly. I will most likely turn this into a series of one-shots placed in the same Universe in which random characters of my pick go through what Marco just did. That is to say, dying, reminiscing a bit, have a few discoveries about death and meet someon they knew in life. Who they meet will vary greatly depedning on when in their life I decide to kill them off (mwuhahaha) and some won't even know the characters they come across. I will try to keep it from being too repetetive as well as I can. It will not, I repeat, not be in chronological order. As a matter of fact this will most likely be the last one, chronologically. Regular updates are not to be expected as I work best when inspiration hits, and that's hard to force for me. But I will try to update often.

Thanks for reading!

Next up: Luffy