they say the captain goes down with the ship...

Born September 9, 1964, Michael Thomas Slattery was the only child of Priscilla and Thomas Slattery in Chicago, Illinois. Thomas was a police officer in the city and Priscilla was a homemaker. They struggled to become pregnant and finally were blessed with Michael. Growing up, his dad figured his son would be a police officer like him, and like his own father before. Mike was drawn to the United States Navy from an early age but didn’t want to upset his parents by not going down the assumed path he would take.

He worked hard in school, always earning good marks and stayed focus on his goal of becoming a police officer. When he turned 21, he joined the Chicago Police Department. Of all the places he could go in such a large department, he was focused on investigations—specifically homicide. He was diligent and did good work on the investigations he could and when he had been there for over 18 months, he put out for investigations. He didn’t get it on the first go round, but by the time he was 23, he was proud to announce he was Detective Mike Slattery with the Chicago Police Department.

He stayed there for seven years, and just after his 29th birthday, he was called to the scene of a drive by shooting with three unidentified victims. But only two mattered. Seeing his parents lying in a puddle of their own blood was too much and Mike quit that very same day, leaving his gun and badge on the Chief’s desk and he headed to the U.S. Navy recruitment office and enlisted.

Thus began his Navy career at 29 years old. He went through boot camp and rose in rate quickly and efficiently. He was, as always, focused on his career and advancement. It wasn’t until he met Christine when he was 34, that he started to think maybe there really is more to life than work. The two were married just a year later and by the time he was 37, he was welcoming his first child, Hannah Marie Slattery into the world. Three years later Alicia Jane was born, followed by Lucas Michael three years after that.

Things were not all sunshine and roses in the Slattery home, though. Being a Navy wife is hard. It’s even harder when your husband is Mike Slattery. Still super focused on the job, on the mission, Mike rarely made time for his family. He did spend more time with the kids than he did with Christine, but as the years ticked by, the time grew less and less that he was around. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to be, but because the desire to achieve more at work was more pressing.

In hindsight, this is his biggest regret.

Fast forward to 2016. He’s been deployed again, but for the last six months prior, he’s been sleeping on the couch downstairs. The kids have just come to expect dad to be there now, and they don’t ask questions anymore. He’s realizing, sleeping alone, that he has not put enough into this marriage for it to continue to work. Him and Christine are no longer partners, but roommates, and it’s wearing on them both. He tries to do things for her, but it’s too late. They’ve been together for 18 years, though… it’s hard to walk away, even if things are bad. He begs her to give him another chance, but she’s just done. She’s tired of hurting. She’s tired of living a fake life and smiling and pretending they’re a happy family when he’s brought her nothing but pain so he can focus on the mission. She’s done.

When he first leaves, he tries to call her. Desperately hoping for an answer, but it never comes. Just before they enter the point where they need to be radio silent, he tries one last time, and as though by some sort of miracle, Christine answers. Her voice is cold and hurt, though. Distant. She doesn’t say much in the way of greeting him before she tells him that their son, Lucas, has died from the virus. He doesn’t know what to say, so he falls back on I love you and she disconnects.