My first Gilliganfic I'm actually happy with. :3 I just got into Gilligan's Island about a month ago and I started to write not long after getting into it. I've got island madness! Agh!

I'm not the youngest Gilligan fan but I'm one of the younger ones. Just turned 16. XD But yeah, I love to write for characters I really like and have a connection with. I totally identify with Gilligan. *hugs him*

Sorry if I don't get everyone in character, this was my second fanfiction for this show. First published, yeah... XD I'm not too good at humor, so this isn't a really funny story, but yeah. I usually write for more fast-paced action shows. Gilligan's Island isn't really an action show, but WHAT'S TO STOP ME FROM WRITING FOR IT? XD

Anyyyywaaaaaayy

Enjoy this songfic. :D And beware the monkeys. I had to remove the lyrics because some person reported me for plagiarism... I do not plagiarize. *facepalm*

"Out of Bounds" by Panhead13

.~GI~.

The moment Gilligan heard his name being shouted gruffly by the Skipper, he knew he was going to get it good. Real good.

"You've just destroyed our only hope of escaping this island!" the Skipper yelled.

Gilligan held his hands close to his chest, his eyes wide and his stance nervous. "I didn't mean to do it, Skipper. Honest!" he said in his own defense. Smiling a bit nervously, he pointed down at the mess of bamboo poles and sap-covered wiring. "We can always put it back together, right?"

"Put it back together!?" the Skipper raged. He practically blew his cap off. "Gilligan, we spent a whole month building that transmitter! And now your bumbling has destroyed it!"

The words cut into Gilligan sharply. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, playing with his fingers. He felt guilty about what he'd done, on accident, just like most everything else he did wrong was an accident. And, as usual, he took the beating. "I didn't mean to, I really didn't!" He backed away and then darted off into the jungle on swift feet, knowing the Skipper and his wrath wouldn't be able to catch up with him.

He had to get away. He didn't want to be yelled at anymore. He didn't want to see the Professor's reaction to all his hard work now gone to waste. The girls would be upset. The Howells wouldn't be at all happy, either. He didn't want to see their faces all glaring down at him, or hear their voices telling him he'd done something wrong again. He knew he'd messed up. He didn't want his fellow castaways verbally affirming that fact. Whatever "verbally affirming" meant. He'd learned just to stare at the ground when they all yelled at him. The ground didn't make his heart lurch as a face twisted in anger did.

Coming to a quiet, serene place, Gilligan sat down, a sorrowful look on his usually cheerful face. The Professor's discovery one month ago had elated the castaways. He had found a sap that conducted electricity and both received and transmitted radio waves when smeared on wire. So then the group had opted to build a radio tower from bamboo with sap-coated wires running through it. It had taken weeks to set up the mega-transmitter and loads of hard work. It had been ready just that day.

And then Gilligan had accidentally backed into it. Both he and the transmitter had fallen backwards with a mighty crash.

He never meant to make a mess of everything, and he couldn't understand why his fellow castaways- his friends- didn't see that. As far as he could understand, they just thought he did it all on purpose. He hoped they would see he didn't mean to do those things, someday.

Gilligan looked around, pulling his knees to his chest. He could unwind when he was by himself. It was kind of like getting over a deep wound and finally being able to take off the bandage. He was all right now, far away from any punishment he might meet later. He was alone with himself and his imagination. He loved the other castaways, but he wasn't so sure they would love him back anymore.

"I don't try to destroy stuff, it just happens," Gilligan said aloud. He looked up and saw that a small monkey was watching him from a treebranch. "I don't mean to, I tell ya, I don't!" he told the monkey, his voice raised.

The monkey chattered in response.

Gilligan shook his head, smiling sadly. "They all know I'm useless. Sometimes I wonder why they keep me around."

The monkey squeaked.

"Easy for you to say," said Gilligan. "You're a monkey."

The monkey grinned and screeched laughingly. Gilligan didn't know if the animal was laughing at the statement or at him. The young man frowned sulkishly and rested his cheek in one palm. If the monkey was there to make fun of him, he would ignore it. "Not even the animals will listen," he murmured. He picked up a nearby rock and tossed it aimlessly.

Gilligan remembered all the times he'd ever been called "dumb", and all the plans and things he'd accidentally ruined, and everything he'd ever said without thinking. "But I'm not stupid! I can't help that I'm so clumsy all the time!" He started to raise his voice in emotion. "All I try to do is help." He folded his arms and looked twice as upset.

The monkey squeaked again, looking down at the sad little Gilligan. Gilligan looked up and found that there were now three monkeys in the tree, all looking down at him inquisitively. Or mockingly, Gilligan couldn't decide which. "You animals usually make me feel better," he said.

The first monkey chattered. The second squeaked. The third one started to pick at its toenails. Gilligan smiled. "As long as you don't yell at me I guess you guys are all right," he said. The young man rose to his feet and ambled closer to the tree. The monkeys began to chatter and hoot. The first one chirruped laughingly and snatched Gilligan's hat.

"Hey," Gilligan interjected. He cast a friendly glare at the monkey, who put it on the third's head. At that, Gilligan had to laugh. The third monkey screeched and put the hat on the first monkey's head. Then the second monkey took Gilligan's hat and set it on its own head, grinning.

Gilligan found the monkeys amusing, but he wanted his hat back. "Can I have it back now?" he asked innocently. The monkey in the hat continued to grin, chattering.

The first monkey screeched, pointing up at the sky. The other two began to hoot and chatter, frantic. Gilligan looked up as well. The sky was beginning to cloud up from what he could tell. A storm was coming. The monkey shoved the hat into the young man's upturned face and hurried off with its buddies.

Gilligan nudged his hat back to the top of his head, knowing he should get back to camp. But he didn't want to be yelled at any more that day, and he feared- oh, how he feared- that the moment anyone saw his face the first thing that would happen would be someone yelling at him. He could always hide in a cave and wait for the storm to pass. But then the others would come looking for him.

Gilligan sighed and started to shuffle back to camp, deciding he'd rather get yelled at than be caught out in a storm. But the closer he got to camp, the more he began to think. "Oh boy, I really messed it up this time," he said to himself, hesitating. "They're all gonna get real mad when they see me." Gilligan was a forgiving person, but he didn't know if the other castaways would be so willing to forgive him this time.

A bit of the same upset feeling from before knotted up in his stomach, causing him to think and rethink about what he was going to do. His mind was going in that confused circle, as if it was chasing its own tail. A determined streak hit Gilligan and he decided that he would go back to camp no matter what happened.

Thunder boomed in the sky as it continued to grow darker. Gilligan started to walk faster, looking up at the sky. While walking, he tripped over five vines and bumped into three trees, until he finally stumbled into camp. By now the wind was howling and the clouds in the sky were black and churning.

"Skippeeer!" he called. He got no answer. In fact, he didn't see anyone anywhere. He started wandering about the huts, calling out the names of the castaways. "Professor! Mr. Howell! Mary Ann! Ginger! Mrs. Howell! Anybody?" He frantically began to play with his hands, turning about anxiously. "I guess they left already to get away from the storm," he reasoned, starting off toward the jungle again. He cast a glance at the pile from the mess he'd made. It was all still there, as if it had been awaiting his return. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Gilligan ran off in search of his friends.

.~GI~.

The castaways waited in the cave they'd now chosen for a storm shelter. The radio announcer had said that this storm would be extremely bad, closer to a typhoon. Assuming that Gilligan would find his way to the cave once he noticed the weather getting bad, the group had taken their things and settled in, saving a spot for the clumsy young man.

But so far, he hadn't shown up. The storm was getting wilder by the minute. Everyone was worried. The Skipper had the gnawing feeling that Gilligan had forgotten where the cave was or was too lost in the storm to tell where he was. Angry feelings aside, the Skipper didn't want his little buddy to get hurt, or worse, killed. As much as he threatened Gilligan, he wouldn't actually wish any of that on him.

"My poor little buddy, caught out there in the storm," the Skipper lamented.

"Oh, Professor, do you think he'll be OK out there?" asked Mary Ann, clearly worried.

"If he finds a shelter, he might," the Professor said gravely.

"But what if he doesn't find one? What then?" Mary Ann questioned.

"Then he'll be in a lot of danger," the scientist replied. "He could end up dead."

The Skipper swallowed. "Oh, this is all my fault," he said. "I yelled at him for wrecking the transmitter and he ran away. If I hadn't done that he would be here with us, safe."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Skipper," said the Professor.

"I'll go looking for him," said the sailor, rising to his feet. It was the least he could do to say sorry.

"But captain, then you would be in danger too!" Mr. Howell exclaimed.

The Professor looked pensive. "Give Gilligan five more minutes. If he's not here by then, you can go looking for him."

The Skipper sat down to wait for an eternal five minutes, worrying the whole time. Gilligan never did show up. "I'm going to look for him now," the Skipper told his cavemates. He stood up and headed for the exit. "Wish me luck."

Each castaway wished his or her luck, except for the Professor, who did not believe in luck. "You should do just fine without my luck," he said.

The Skipper nodded and squeezed out of the cave, nearly stumbling backwards when the wind hit him. Rain nailed tiny needles into his body, cutting through his clothes down into his skin. He could barely see the jungle ahead of him. He thought about turning back, but if this was how he was faring in the storm, he worried all the more about Gilligan. "I'm coming, Gilligan!" he shouted.

.~GI~.

Gilligan was sure he had walked- or been blown, one of the two- in circles. And he was scared. If only he could remember how to get to the storm shelter cave!

A large gust whipped up against Gilligan's side. He was briefly knocked off his feet, catching himself on a palm tree until the gust had gone. Then he landed on his feet and started to walk again. He had called out the names of the castaways for the first fifteen minutes or so, but now his voice was tired and the storm was getting too bad. He doubted if they could hear him anyway. If anything would alert them of his presence, his bright red shirt would.

Then, Gilligan thought he heard a voice on the wind. It sounded sort of like the Skipper, but he couldn't make out what the voice was saying. The wind's howling was too loud to understand. Or maybe the wind was the voice. The wind sounded just like the Skipper! Gilligan was happy to have found such an interesting phenomenon. He would have to tell the Professor about that.

And when he understood what the voice in the wind was saying, he grew even more baffled. "The wind knows my name?" he asked himself. He raised his voice again. "Hellooooo?" he cried.

Then the voice repeated itself. "Gilligan!"

"You sound a lot like my buddy the Skipper!" Gilligan called to the wind.

"Where are you, Gilligan?" The voice was getting nearer.

It suddenly struck Gilligan that the voice actually was the Skipper. Gilligan was supposed to be looking for the castaways, not the other way around! "I'm over here!" he called. "I'm over here, Skipper!"

"Gilligan!" the Skipper called again. "Come over here!"

Gilligan tried to walk in the general direction of the voice, but the wind and rain beat him back. "I can't!" he shouted. "The wind is too strong!"

"I'm coming!" the Skipper shouted. Neither man could see the other, so Gilligan kept talking to keep the Skipper on the right course.

"Boy, I sure am glad you showed up, Skipper!" he declared. "I was lost out here and I heard you and I thought you were the wind but then I realized that you were you! I was looking for all of you but then I ended up walking in circles!" Finally, Gilligan saw a blob of blue in the distance. The young man started waving his hands, but the wind caught him again and threw him through the air. "Help!" he cried.

The flash of red flying through the sky alerted the Skipper to Gilligan's location. "Gilligan!" he shouted, beginning to run towards the red flag of a boy holding on to a palm tree. "I'm coming, little buddy!"

"Come faster!" he heard Gilligan cry out.

"I'm coming as fast as I can!" Now the Skipper could see a more defined apperance of Gilligan. The young man was hanging onto the palm tree with both arms and legs now, his hat clutched in his hands. "Gilligan, try to work your way down the tree!"

"I'll try!" Gilligan started to worm down the tree, and he hopped right down after the gusts grew less strong. He could see the Skipper standing not far off, so he started to jog over that way. "Skipper! Skipper! Oh I'm so glad to see you, Skipper," he said.

"I'm glad to see you too, Gilligan," said the Skipper as his little buddy crashed right into his arms. "Come on, we've got to get you back to the cave!"

Together the two walked back through the jungle, the Skipper using himself as a sort of shield to keep Gilligan from blowing away again. Finally, the cave came into sight. The Skipper laughed in gladness. "We're here, Gilligan!" he declared. "You're safe and sound!"

.~GI~.

After the storm had passed, the seven castaways made their way through the damaged jungle to camp. They arrived to find the camp had been damaged. The storage hut had a branch through its roof and bits of the hut walls were scattered about. Surprisingly, they were still standing. "Wow," Gilligan breathed.

Everybody started picking up the pieces of hut lying around, trying to decide whose palm branches belonged to who and soforth. After all the branches had been cleared away, Gilligan noticed something. "Hey! The transmitter I destroyed is gone," he said.

"You know, he's right," the Skipper said. Then, turning to Gilligan he said, "Look, little buddy, I'm sorry for getting so steamed up at you for destroying that thing earlier today. It would have gotten destroyed by this storm, anyway. I mean, look at the huts!"

"Yeah, Skipper. For once a storm did more damage than I did," Gilligan replied, smiling.

Like the wrecked pieces of the transmitter had washed away in the storm, so had any feelings of bitterness anyone had toward the young first mate washed away. They were mainly just happy he was alive and well.

And Gilligan was happy to be around his friends once more. He liked to be by himself to think, but sometimes, sometimes, he just needed the support of good friends to make him feel all right.

.~GI~.

Fin, for lack of a better ending! I'm so glad to finally be done with this songfic.

I had to remove the lyrics here, so just look the song up if you want the lyrics. Neh. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this. Please review~

I'll post a fun one next, called "Gilliganagain". Though I may revise it. I like it, though...