Author's Note: Welcome to the third installment of Breaking Through! This is from Slattery's point of view and how his relationship with Garnett came about. So a lot of new parts to the story! I hope you enjoy and as for the others, you don't need to read the other two stories to understand this one, but you will get more of what is going on and of course more of Tom and Rachel's romance story (if that's something you're interested in). So happy reading and enjoy the ride.

Dark rolling sea.

Disclaimer: They ain't mine, I don't make a cent…I just like to play sometimes.

BREAKING THROUGH:

SLATTERY'S POINT OF VIEW

CHAPTER ONE

Commander Mike Slattery came onto the bridge of the Nathan James. He waved off the announcement of his arrival and sighed as he headed towards the captain sitting in his chair. He took inventory of his best friend's looks and frowned. In the last six months, Tom Chandler had been sinking. The stress of the race for the cure, the landing in Baltimore, the death of his wife, and now the race to put the nation back together was taking its toll. Hell, it was taking its toll on everyone, but Chandler was sinking…fast.

Mike had never really seen him like this, and it was troubling. Generally, Chandler had been able to separate when on duty, but lately, he had been broody, down, dark. The darkness was what was concerning Mike as he hated to see his friend suffering. Mike had tried over the last six months to engage Chandler to talk about it, but Tom had built that wall and said stoically, 'I'm fine', every time Mike brought something up.

The crew was taking notice. Chief Petty Officer Russ Jeter had come to Mike a few weeks ago and voiced his concern as well. They all saw it. The downward spiral of their beloved captain. And he was, beloved. He was the one person on this ship that could command every single person to raise their spirits and soldier on. But he was slipping, and Mike had no idea how to help him.

It didn't help the Mike was suffering as well. He was struggling with the thoughts of losing his family. Things had been horribly rocky with his wife before they deployed to the artic, but he had loved his kids more than life. And now they were gone. All of them. And it hurt. It was a hurt so deep he'd never in his life experienced anything like it. But he soldiered on because…he had too. If he took the time to think about it, he'd be curled up in his cabin in the fetal position contemplating eating his gun. But Tom had pushed him to be better, do better, and keep soldiering on.

He slowly approached the captain. He was sitting in the captain's chair, feet braced up, staring out at the open sea. It was growing late in the day, the sun setting, covering the cloudy sky with a beautiful array of pinks and blues and oranges. That was something that Mike never tired of while out at sea. He glanced back at Tom and hesitated. There was something hard in the captain's expression and Mike knew he was hip deep in the darkness today.

"Tom," he said quietly so the rest of the bridge crew didn't hear him address the captain personally. Tom flinched; a touch of anger crossed his face as he slowly turned his head to face Mike.

"XO," Tom said in a harsh whisper letting Mike know he didn't appreciate the slip of formality on the bridge. Mike sighed and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. He nodded his acknowledgement of Tom's reprimand and then leaned in closer.

"Take the night. I'll take the watch," Mike said calmly, quietly, and sternly. Tom glared at him again, but Mike held his ground, simply raising his eyebrows, cocking his head slightly to the side and pursing his lips. He knew the captain needed a break; he just wished the captain knew he needed a break.

"I'm fine to stand my duty," Tom mumbled, but it was not convincing, and Mike let out a long sigh that drew Tom's glare again. Mike thought about keeping his informal approach but didn't want to piss Tom off any more than he already had. He really just wanted Tom to take a break so he could take a moment to sort his head out.

"Captain, can I talk to you in the at sea cabin?" Mike said quietly. Tom looked around at his bridge crew and saw every single sailor there working extremely hard to avoid the conversation between the CO and the XO taking place. Mike glanced around. They all looked very uncomfortable. Tom abruptly dropped his feet to the deck and sprang angrily from the captain's chair.

"As you wish," Tom hissed and pushed past Mike and walked off towards the at sea cabin. Mike took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling of the bridge sending a silent prayer upward that he didn't end up in the brig with his dick in his hand. Tom could be a bear to deal with sometimes. But Mike knew, he could handle it. He'd handled Tom Chandler before. He turned quickly and used his longer stride to catch up to Tom as he was reaching the cabin. The two men ducked inside, and Tom went to the desk and sat on the edge, rigid, angry.

Mike sighed again. This was hard, painful even. He knew his friend needed help, but he wasn't in a position to help him. He knew Tom would never confide in him about the darkness surrounding him, because Mike was his underlying, friendship or not. Mike didn't see the distinction and thought Tom was being ridiculous that he refused to talk to anyone of the ship because of his command status, but it wasn't his decision to make.

"So, speak," Tom barked.

"Tom," Mike switched back to informal as they were away from the crew. "I'm coming to you as your friend Mike, not your XO Slattery." He saw Tom soften slightly, a look of…panic...flittered across the captain's face. Mike felt his concern deepen. "Geez, this is…I think you need a break, Tom."

"From what?" he asked. Mike let out a noise of exasperation, then scrubbed his big hand over his face.

"You are so difficult sometimes," he breathed out. He saw the corner of Tom's mouth twitch up for the briefest of seconds before the darkness settled again. "The crew's noticing."

That seemed to do it. Tom looked shocked for a split second before he slammed the captain mask on his face. Mike gave him a nervous smile, the swallowed. They stared at each other in silence for a long while before he saw Tom Chandler give in. It was a slight slump of his shoulders, but it was all Mike needed to know…he was giving in. Tom looked up to the ceiling and breathed heavily through his nose.

"Okay," Tom hissed out, the fight leaving him. Mike nodded slowly.

"Take the night. Like I said I have the watch," Mike replied then walked out of the cabin. For all he cared Tom could stay in the at sea cabin all night. But as Mike settled into his XO's chair and propped his legs up, sticking an unlit cigar between his teeth, he heard the at sea cabin's hatch open and close. He had a brief moment of dread that Tom was going to return to his captain's chair, but the relief flooded him as Tom made an announcement.

"XO has the watch. I'll be in my stateroom," Tom said flatly then he exited the bridge without another word. Mike glanced around at the crew and saw the looks exchanged between a few of them, but he let it go. It wasn't something he wanted to address at this moment, and he hoped the captain could get his shit together soon…at least while on duty. Mike made a mental note to talk to Jeter about it.

It had been about two hours when Rachel burst onto the bridge with an aura of excitement. Mike turned his neck so he could watch her come across the room. She hadn't looked up yet and was addressing the captain talking about some kind of breakthrough of the vaccine production. Mike dropped his feet and pulled the cigar from his teeth, standing. He smiled as Rachel hadn't noticed the captain's chair was empty yet.

"And I think I can," Rachel was saying, her voice high with excitement. Her words cut off abruptly when she reached the chair and finally noticed it was empty. She whirled fast towards the XO and Mike took a step back to keep her from plowing into him. Her face was scrunched in confusion, mixed with the excitement of whatever it was she was talking about. "Where's the captain?" she asked incredulously. Mike smiled, a small chuckle escaped, then he locked it all down.

"Captain is in his stateroom for the night," Mike answered. Rachel searched her face, a look of curiosity washed over her.

"Well why the bloody hell isn't he on watch?" Rachel asked and Mike fought the cringe that washed through him. He instead cocked his head to the side, bunched his eyebrows and stared at her intently.

"Well, that's not really any of your business," he retorted. He caught Granderson's raised eyebrows as she turned away from him, presumably to hide the smile she couldn't stop. Rachel was caught off guard. She narrowed her eyebrows and gave him a sharp look but decided against starting an argument. Mike let the corners of his mouth flash up for a moment. She left the bridge in the same whirlwind she had arrived, and Mike shook his head. He still had trouble trusting that woman and he had definitely noticed the way she looked at his friend, the captain. Not that he hadn't taken notice of the way the captain looked at that woman.

Mike went back to his chair, putting the cigar firmly between his teeth again and sighed. He knew Rachel was headed to the stateroom, and he really couldn't order her not to, or stop her for that matter. He just hoped that his friend was in a position to deal with it tonight. It was out of his hands now, and soon out of his mind. It was full on dark now, the night embracing the ship like a blanket. Mike felt his stomach grumble and looked around. He found the OOD and flipped his chin at the young man. At some point Granderson had gone off watch.

"I'm heading the wardroom for some grub. I have the portable on."

"Ay, Sir," the young man responded. Mike nodded and walked off the bridge heading towards the wardroom. He had expected it to be empty this late into the night but was surprised to see Commander Garnett sitting at the table staring at a half-eaten plate of food. She looked up when she heard the door open, and a look of surprise flashed through her face before she forced a tight smile.

"Sir," she said as she stood.

"Commander, sit, finish eating," he replied gently. He saw Bacon in the galley and got his attention. "The usual," Mike breathed out then stood leaning against the counter waiting for his food. He stepped to the drink station and poured himself a cup of coffee before turning back and excepting his tray of food. "Thanks."

He sat down next to Garnett and started to eat, his stomach aching from the lack of food he'd consumed that day. He really needed to get better about eating more regularly. As he shoved food into his mouth, gulping his meal down quickly he felt someone staring at him. He finished the bite in his mouth, wiped at his mouth quickly with a napkin and glanced sideways out of the corner of his eyes. Garnett was watching him, an amused smile on her lips. Mike felt the heat creep up his neck and into his cheeks.

"What?" Mike asked quietly, defensively, self-consciously. Garnett smiled and Mike had never really noticed how pretty it was before.

"Hungry?" she asked with a bit of humor. Mike felt the laugh bubble and he let it out. It was loud, and quick, a bark. Then he smiled at looked over at her.

"I'm not sure I've eaten anything else today," he said with a chuckle. "And yes, I was hungry." She smiled again and he felt the urge to say something to keep that smile there. He was a little shocked at himself. But then her smile faltered, and she looked down at her barely touched food. "But you're not hungry tonight," Mike said. It was a statement not a question and she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"I thought maybe…I came down here because I couldn't sleep," she confessed, and Mike nodded. He'd had his fair share of sleepless nights on this ship. It was always in the confines of your bunk, in the darkness of night, that the ghosts came out to haunt you.

"I understand that," Mike breathed out. "I've had my fair share of sleepless nights." Mike turned again and looked at her. He really took a moment to look at her and noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the redness of her whites, the look of despair that lingered there. "Are you alright?"

Mike was a little surprised by the softness in his voice. And from the look on Garnett's face…so was she. He gave her a reassuring smile. They sat in silence for a long while and Mike didn't mind. It was oddly comforting. He watched as Garnett picked at her sleeve; a habit he wasn't even sure she was aware of. He could see she was spinning something in her mind, thinking about something sad, dark, and painful. He reached over and lightly draped his larger hand over her small, delicate one.

"If you need someone to talk to…I think I'd understand what you're going through," Mike said in a whisper. As if he raised his voice the illusion would shatter. Garnett slowly twisted her head, looking up at him with so much pain, her eyes full of unshed tears. He sighed, his shoulders slumped, and he felt defeated. His own pain from losing his families surfaced. It slammed into him like a torpedo, and he gulped some air into his constricted lungs. He swallowed hard and bit the inside of his bottom lip. "At night? It's the hardest thing. That's when I can't distract myself anymore," Mike confessed. "They come, and all I can see is their lifeless bodies, the blood…"

Mike stopped. Tears were springing and he was having trouble breathing. The pain was hot, searing, and thick. He hated feeling like this. Hated that he had to feel like this. Hated he was here on this ship and his family…but he knew why, and he knew it wasn't really a choice. He tried to swallow but the lump was so thick, he almost gagged on it. He glanced at Garnett again and saw her cheeks were wet with tears.

"I can't stop thinking about them," Garnett said, her voice pitchy and strangled. Mike squeezed his hand gently over hers. "Lilly was so sweet and was my everything."

"When we left the artic, my wife and daughters were still alive," Mike whispered. It was a point that he was struggling with. They had been alive. "But they were gone when we got back. My son…my Lucas," he stumbled. He put his free hand over his face as he cried the tears. It was something he had not done in the months since finding out his family was gone. He had not taken the time to cry. He felt he was stronger than that, but in this moment, it felt right. He felt Garnett's hand twist under his and her fingers intertwine with his.

"I just hope they went quickly. To see their names on the list…to see that they had…died…" her voice cracked, and she quit. Mike couldn't bring his hand down. He was floating in a weird gray area of feeling safe enough to let these emotions out, and embarrassed that he was letting these emotions out in front of another human being. They cried silent tears together, hands interlaced. Mike felt the strength from their hands, felt himself confronting the emotions swimming in his head. Maybe it was poetic justice that this was happening on the same day he sent Tom to his room for the same issue. This ship was a mess. Everyone aboard was locked in a limbo of trauma and emotional overload. Mike felt his tears slowing and he finally managed to pull his hand down from his face.

He found Garnett looking at him, a soft smile on her lips. Her tears had stopped as well, but neither made a move to disengage their hands. Mike absently rubbed his thumb, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his rougher exterior.

"Thanks," Mike sighed out. Garnett's smile twisted into a look of confusion.

"For what?" she asked, eyes still locked on each other.

"For allowing that to happen," Mike replied, and not judging me for breaking down he added silently. Maybe he should have told her that, but he couldn't. Not yet anyway. She smiled at him again and slowly nodded. Mike didn't want to break this contact. There was something magical about it, but he couldn't voice his thoughts. Garnett broke the eye contact and looked at the clock.

"I need to get some sleep," she whispered, and Mike felt a heat creep up his insides. He swallowed and pushed it down.

"I need to get back to the bridge," Mike said. They both smiled softly, but neither broke their contact for a moment longer. Then Garnett slowly slid her hand from his, her fingers dragging against his skin as she did so. There was a shot of heat up his arm into his chest, but he sat there stoic and unreadable. He watched her stand and leave the wardroom and he wondered what the hell had just happened. He took a moment to compose himself and decided to make a quick stop in officer country to splash some water on his face. As he cleared a hatch and turned towards his stateroom, he froze a moment and then stepped back through the hatch he had just came.

He watched as Rachel Scott came down the passageway a pensive look on her face. Mike thought about saying something to her, but he wasn't sure what he could say. There was only one place she was coming from, coming down that passageway, Captain Tom Chandler's stateroom. He checked the time and saw it had been hours since he had seen her on the bridge and wondered if she had been in Tom's cabin the whole time. He wondered if that was a good thing…or a bad thing. He decided time would tell as he made his way to his own stateroom. He used his personal sink to splash cold water on his face and then dried himself before adjusting his uniform and heading back to a long night on the bridge.

To Be Continued…