Whoo, I'm on a roll! I don't know what I'm doing writing fanfiction with a trial exam just around the corner, but this just came up. Indeed, my muse strikes at strange times. It seems intent on preventing me from studying Econs. Anyway, back on topic...

Ths story was inspired by Kitsune Foxfire's wonderful decision to give Thatch the Yami-Yami no Mi in "Burning Rubber". You should check it out, it's a NCIS/One Piece crossover and pretty awesome.

With no further ado, on with the story!

"Oyaji!"

Marco shot up in his bed, hands grabbing at something that wasn't there. Regaining his senses, one hand reached to his face to touch the unmistakable dampness there. Cursing slightly, he stumbled out of bed to the thankfully empty bathroom and quickly splashed water on his face. The image had been so vivid, the nightmare – no, memory – of his father and brothers covered in blood, a memory from the cursed battlefield of Marineford. His hands shook and he gripped the sink tightly. Too vivid.

Sighing bitterly, he reached for his toothbrush and started to go about his morning routine in an effort to calm down.

The sound of an explosion overhead almost made him choke. Quickly spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, he dashed towards the ladder that would bring him to the deck. Was it an enemy attack? He cursed himself for his carelessness, not suspecting anything beforehand.

He burst out onto the deck and skidded to a stop. And luckily he did, else he would have unwittingly ended up right in the middle of a heated battle.

No, it was not an enemy attack. It was something much, much stranger that was unfolding on the deck of the… He blinked in confusing as his mind tried to process a new-found fact.

Fact 1: The Moby Dick had been destroyed in the war. Fact 2: He was currently standing on its deck.

The smaller paddleboats and the mothership were shaped in a similar manner, but any Whitebeard Pirate would be able to identify the distinct differences aside from the color. There was no doubt, this was the Moby Dick.

Feeling a headache coming on, he focused his attention to the more pressing matter of the duel on the deck. That, he realized, just added a new layer of sublimity to the situation.

A blast of fire was nullified by a wall of black, but the close-range attack that followed it had to be dodged. The counterattack sword slash passed harmlessly through the fire Logia. The two combatants skidded apart, both panting from exertion before resuming the fierce duel. Darkness and Fire whipped around the deck, the bursts of heat and emptiness creating unnatural gusts that billowed about the area. His jaw dropped, stunned by the display.

One of the fighters happened to glance in Marco's direction and his face broke into a familiar grin.

"Well, it's about time you got up, you-"

Ace took that precise moment of distraction to slam a boot into his opponent's side and send him sprawling across the deck to hit the railing with great force. The railing broke from the impact and soon after an indignant yell and a loud splash was heard.

Silence reigned for a moment while some of the men peered over the side of the ship as if waiting for him to surface as usual. Then, something very important clicked.

"Hey, he can't swim anymore, can he?" someone piped up rather uncertainly from the side.

Everyone turned to gape comically at him as the realization slowly settled in.

"Gah! Someone save the Commander!"

There was a panicked flurry of motion as several men immediately dove into the water and the rest rushed to the damaged railing, a small group having the forethought to pull along a rope ladder that they efficiently tossed over the side for their brothers in the water.

"Gurararara!" The rumbling laugh of the great captain made Marco's gaze snap towards the side where Whitebeard sat in his usual spot observing the scene with a bottle of sake. The sight was so utterly normal that Marco was completely stumped. Because he could remember all-too-vividly the blood on that strong body, cold stiffness of death that paralyzed those joints, the – Oh, God – half of his face had been blown away. And yet he was sitting there laughing, as if another had happened.

What in the name of Davy Jones was going on!?

A few minutes later, when the spluttering Fourth Division Commander was hauled back aboard, Marco was still standing frozen where he had been.

And the most baffling, most inexplicable part of this entire scene was that Thatch had the Yami-Yami no Mi, and he was alive. And yet, by merit of that single change alone, everything else made perfect sense.

Completely unaware of his frenzied thoughts, the crew's attention remained focused on the two Commanders as the fire user casually approached the darkness Logia user with a smirk on his freckled face.

"Had a nice swim, Thatch?" Ace's tone was a masterpiece of innocence.

"You damn brat! That was an unfair move!" Thatch managed with a curse after he had regained his breath.

The fire user just grinned at the accusation. "I was just educating you on the weaknesses of your new Logia. You know, being an experienced user and all, I thought I'd give you a few tips." was the cheeky response.

Thatch looked torn between recovering from his traumatizing experience and murdering the younger man. "Getting back at me from dumping you in the water in the past, more like."

"Don't forget the many times you drew weird stuff on my face when I'm asleep," Ace added with venomous sweetness.

"After going through that, I'll probably think twice before kicking you off the ship now." Thatch shivered.

"Looks like the lesson paid off, then," Ace laughed, offering a hand to help his friend up.

Thatch took it. Ace's eyes widened for a moment before a foot connected with the middle of his chest and he was flipped over the other man and towards the now nonexistent portion of the railing.

"I thought twice about it, but heck, I still think it's a good idea," he said with a mischievous smirk. Moments later, Ace hit the water.

This time, the response was practiced and immediate. "Someone get the Commander!"

As the men hurried to rescue their Second Division Commander from the waves, the brown haired darkness user ambled over to sling a sopping wet arm over Marco's shoulders.

"It's pretty unusual for you to sleep in, Marco. You aren't sick or anything, are you?"

Marco knew his expression must look completely dumb but he was honestly confused out of his mind. "Thatch, you–"

"Hmm?"

He wanted to ask about Teach, about Marineford, about the endless blood that haunted him. Yet in this bright sunlight with the sound of an indignant Ace stomping towards them and the familiar rumbling laughter in the background, even the thought of any of those horrible events occurring felt impossible.

"Hey, Marco? Is something wrong?" Thatch was beginning to sound worried.

Feeling the warmth of his friend's arm over his shoulders, his lips curved into a smile and he shook his head. "Nah." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then opened them again to look up at the clear blue sky. "Just had a bad dream, yoi."

Just a dream.

Take that last line as you will, readers. Fancy a happy ending or rather stick with the tragic canon? Up to you. :D

Inspiration source no. 2: Inception. It's absolutely one of my favourite movies and just insanely mindboggling, which I hope I managed to achieve somewhat in this ending as well.

So, how did you like it? Please review! Constructive criticism is welcome (any characters you think may be OOC, got any ways to improve my fight scenes, etc) I'm always seeking to improve my writing, so every comment helps!