"What comes next?" the Professor breathed.

"Death."

…

And so they stood there - the seven of them - in a little solemn circle. For a while, no one said anything because, really, what was there to say? What words would lessen the dread and sorrow of a death sentence?

"I can't believe it," Ginger whispered despairingly. "The end," she mourned.

"After everything that's happened. After all we've been through. It can't be the end! This isn't right; this isn't fair."

"It's not fair, Mary Ann," the Skipper agreed sadly, placing a gentle hand on her shaking shoulder. "But many things in life aren't fair. It wasn't fair that we ended up stuck on this island."

"No, it wasn't," the Professor put in. The scholar was not crying, but his eyes were full of sadness. All pretense of disbelief had been dropped. "I'm very sorry it has to be this way," he said. And he stood there, a defeated man.

"Well, I'm not," Mr. Howell spoke up suddenly, and the others looked at him, surprised. He had his arms around his wife, who was sniffing tearfully, but he himself had an air of defiance. "I'm not sorry," he declared, moving himself and his wife a little closer. Unconsciously, the whole group moved into a tighter circle. Their shoulders were touching, and soon their hands were too.

"I'm sorry we ever had to get stranded," Mr. Howell continued. "But I will never be sorry for being stranded with all of you. I was a different person before," he sighed. "Greedy, selfish, stuck up. But all of you - this place - it's changed me. You've changed me for the better, and I will never be sorry for that." Mr. Howell put his other arm around Gilligan, who was standing on his other side, and in a chain reaction, the castaways all put their arms around one another. They were closer than they had ever been. They stood as one family, united. And they would face death just as they had faced everything else - together.

"Folks," the Skipper said. His voice shook slightly with emotion, but no one made a comment. "I want you all to know that I consider us family. You all have a very special place in my heart, and I want to thank you for these fine years. The best shipwreck ever, I'm sure," he grinned sadly.

"Oh, Skipper," Mary Ann cried. "You're my family, too," she said. "All of you." Everyone nodded in agreement with this. Ginger let out a small sob.

"I love you all," she told them quietly.

"I love you all," Mrs. Howell repeated.

"I do as well," the Professor put in. The words traveled around the group in one of the most solemn and meaningful moments that had yet happened upon their little island. Finally, the only person who had not yet spoken was Gilligan, and the others looked at him expectantly.

Oddly, he seemed not to be paying attention. They waited around a few more seconds to see if he would speak, but his eyes were staring intently at nothing, and they could tell that he was miles away.

"Gilligan," the Skipper called lightly, nudging his first mate to get his attention. "Did you-"

"Shhhhh!" Gilligan exclaimed suddenly, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and simultaneously waving everyone quiet. The sudden movement ruined their little huddle, and the sudden change in topic unsettled everyone. The girls were so confused they had stopped their crying.

"What-" the Skipper tried to ask, but he was cut off by another violent "Shhhhhhh!" The castaways remained extremely quiet and still, curious.

"Do you hear that?" Gilligan asked them. Not daring to speak, they shook their heads no. "Listen," Gilligan told them seriously, and he dropped to the ground and put his ear to the sand. Curiosity growing, some of the other castaways copied him.

"I don't hear anything," Mary Ann reported, her ear to the sand.

"You don't hear that? Gee, it sounds pretty crazy!" Gilligan told them excitedly. "Do you hear it, Professor?" he asked. The Professor, who was still standing, grudgingly got down to the ground and listened, too. "Somebody's gotta be able to hear it," Gilligan said. Now all the castaways were sitting or laying down, bodies low to the sand, listening for something, anything. There was a moment of silence.

"Hey! I hear it!" Mary Ann said suddenly. Gilligan's head popped up so fast it collided with the Skipper's, who was listening nearby.

"You do?!" Gilligan asked, his voice betraying his utter confusion. The Skipper narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but then Gilligan had corrected himself. "I mean, of course you do!" he amended, leaning back down to listen. The others only listened harder now; if Gilligan and Mary Ann had heard it, there was definitely some sort of noise.

"Yes, I hear it, too," the Professor declared suddenly, and he sat up slightly, thoughtful. "I know that sound." He frowned pensively. Now the others could hear it, too, and they all remained low to the ground, listening.

"What is that?" Mr. Howell asked curiously.

"I definitely know that sound," the Professor said again. But why couldn't he think what it was? It was on the tip of his tongue… It sounded like.. bubbling, something bubbling. It sounded like… "Gas!" he exclaimed suddenly. "It's gas!"

At those words, the aforementioned gas suddenly spewed forth from the sand in different places like geysers, rising high into the air with malevolent ferocity. Instinctively, the castaways curled in on themselves, covering their noses and mouths with their clothes or their hands. Their eyes were squeezed shut, but the gas still seemed to sting them; they were coughing harshly, gasping. It was painful, it was horrible, it was… gone.

As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The remaining clouds of smoke drifted up into the air, and were carried away by the fresh island breeze. Limp with relief, the castaways uncurled themselves, gasping and shaking, but alive. After several moments to collect themselves, they began to sit up.

"That was poisoned gas!" the Skipper shouted hoarsely, shocked. He coughed some more, cleared his throat. "Everyone ok?"

"I think so."

"Yes, we're fine."

"Still alive."

"I'm all right."

"Just peachy, Skipper."

Everyone having sounded off, the Skipper nodded, sighing in relief.

"Good heavens," the Professor said quietly. "Do you all realize that if we had been standing, we all would have died? Gas rises; we would have breathed much, much more of it in. And we wouldn't have been prepared."

"Oh, of course!" Ginger cried. "And all of ye left standing shall, by Death, be smote! None of us were left standing; we were sitting or laying down!" Understanding suddenly lit everyone's faces, and Mary Ann gasped.

"Gee, you know what that means? Gilligan, you saved us!" she exclaimed, smiling exuberantly as it dawned on her. The others looked over at Gilligan, nodding and smiling.

"That's right! Heavens to Tiffany, you deserve a medal, boy! I shall build you a statue in New York City!" Mr. Howell proclaimed excitedly. Gilligan only blushed deeply, his cheeks a rosy red.

"Gee, you guys don't have to anything for me," he said, a bit embarrassed by the excessive attention, but grinning broadly all the same. "And really, it wasn't me, it was my hearing!" Everyone laughed, and Mr. Howell stood up.

"Party, everyone, right now! The first toast is to Gilligan's ears!" he shouted. And, helping his wife up, the two Howells ran for the huts. The girls were hot on their heels, and Gilligan and the Skipper followed after.

"Hang on a minute, Gilligan!" the Professor called him back. Gilligan paused, and waved the Skipper ahead. The Professor walked up to him, and the others continued on.

"Yeah, Professor?" Gilligan asked, grinning still.

"I'm just a bit baffled," the Professor began to explain. "None of us heard the gas until much, much later than you, and on top of that, we only heard it when we had our ears pressed to the ground. How on earth did you hear it while we were standing earlier?" he asked curiously. He watched as Gilligan's grin turned into one far more mischievous. The sailor looked around, made sure they were alone, and then turned back to the Professor. He cleared his throat and shrugged innocently.

"Well, gee, Professor, if I told you our only chance at survival was to sit down, would you have done it?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Of course not, the Professor knew. It would have sounded ridiculous. Maybe Ginger and the Skipper would have done it, but he and probably a couple others would have questioned it. They'd have stood there, debating it, questioning it. Wasting precious time as the gas bubbled up beneath their feet. And in a moment of clarity, the Professor suddenly understood. Gilligan had never heard anything. But he had remembered the last line of the dreaded ten plagues, and had remembered their specificity. And he had realized that they surely would be "smote by death"… so long as they were standing. But, incredibly, he had also realized that telling them to sit down would simply not do the trick. So, instead, it had been "Shhh! Do you hear that?". The Professor looked up at Gilligan again, shocked speechless. The sailor simply winked conspiratorially, then turned and ran back down the path to the huts, leaving the Professor alone and bewildered. Slowly, a smile found its way onto the Professor's face as well, and he found that he suddenly had a lot more respect for their bumbling first mate. In fact, he had a new appreciation for everything - for Gilligan, for the others, for their strong bond, for his new family. Even for their little island home.

He headed back for the camp, the benevolent sun shining warmly down upon him. The island breeze ruffled his hair affectionately. The sound of laughter drifted over to him as he neared the huts, and the Professor sighed in pure contentment. He did not, and could not, know what storms lay ahead. But if they had gotten through the plagues together, they could get through anything together. And really… what could possibly go wrong?

…

The End

…

A/N: A big, hearty THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH to all the wonderful people who have followed and favorited this story, and a special thanks to the reviewers that have kept this story going. It would never have been finished without all of you. Also, my sincere gratitude to those of you who have followed this story from the start. It means more than I can say. Thank you, readers, and have a wonderful summer! Have a coconut cream pie :)