Disclaimer: Own no one

Moscow, Russia

"Viktor Romanov, you failed your mission!"

"I go back Commandant…"

"No! You go to Siberia!"

Viktor gulped! "Commandant what about…"

"Your Papa? You lucky we do not kill him for your stupidity! You never return to Russia!"

"Please...say goodbye?"

"Guards! Take him to Siberian prison!"

"No! No! Papa!"

"As far as Vlad Romanov is concerned you are dead."

The spy's blue eyes went wide and he tried to fight off the guards to get away. Unfortunately they were much stronger than him and he was dragged away. The white hat that had been on his head fell off in the struggle.

Once the young man was gone the Commandant picked up the hat. He left with it and a folder before driving to an apartment in Moscow. Once there he climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.

A man that looked exactly like the Skipper opened the door. "Commandant…" His eyes landed on the hat. "Vhere is Viktor?!'

The Commandant sighed. "I am sorry Vlad. Your son died on mission."

"No…!" Vlad said heartbroken. "Vhat happened?"

"Viktor fought Gilligan. Gilligan killed him. Then Americans burn body. I am sorry." The Commandant gave him the hat and folder. "You can get your revenge. Dis is Skipper. Viktor was able to find out dat dey are as close as you two. Take his place and killing him will be easy."

"Da Commandant. When leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. Viktor was good boy. Good spy. Raised vell."

Vlad only nodded as he shut the door and sat on his couch allowing his grief to come. He looked at the wall where several pictures of himself and the orphan he was told to raise for the spy organization. They had grown close over the years as the boy grew into a man.

Now his Viktor was gone.

When his tears finally slowed rage began to fuel him. He poured a bottle of vodka before opening the folder and reading about the man that he would have to imitate.

"Vhatch out Gilligan. I kill you for taking my son away from me! First I destroy you as de Skipper...break your heart as you did mine! Den...den I kill you…!"

Meanwhile on an uncharted deserted island in the south pacific ocean the seven castaways had no idea what was about to befall them as they went about their business.

The Skipper was out for a walk when he spotted Gilligan teaching his little monkey friend how to play "Patty Cake". He smiled fondly and shook his head with a chuckle. His first mate must have heard him because he looked up and smiled. "Hi Skipper!"

"Hi Little Buddy! Just thought you ought to know that lunch is nearly ready. Go wash up."

Gilligan rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Yes Dad!"

Skipper waited until he walked by to capslap him. "Don't sass me boy!"

Gilligan just grinned at him before racing back to camp.

Skipper watched him go amused. 'We could bottle that energy up and sell it we'd be as rich as the Howells!' he thought as he made his way back to camp. He was glad that Gilligan had been cured of whatever delusions he'd been having about a guy that looked like him. It was a relief to have his first mate back. He'd be utterly lost without that boy.

When he got there he sat down listening to Gilligan as he chatted with Mary Ann about teaching the little monkey how to play Patty Cake. The general happiness and endless enthusiasm brought a smile to his face.

Later on he found Gilligan napping on the beach at the lagoon and sat beside him. With no one around and the calming effect of the nearby water he was able to pretend.

Pretend this goofy, sweet, clumsy, well meaning boy was his son. He had never really told Gilligan how much he had grown to care for him. The conversation just never came up.

The saying goes that one man's trash is another man's treasure. Gilligan's father had thrown him out after making his life hell. Tent Gilligan's trash was Jonas Grumby's treasure.

One day he'd tell him.

One day.