Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch. Please don't sue. This is my first story about Ty Davis and I hope you all enjoy it. I'm not really going by the plot line in the show. I'm trying to explore the relationship of Ty and Sasha on a deeper plain. I don't know why I got this idea in my head, but I did and now I'll leave you to decide for yourselves if I should continue. Your support and reviews do the deciding for me. I trust your judgement.

Chances: A Ty Davis Story: Prologue

As I gazed out at the warm Florida ocean, watching the powerful blue green waves, I couldn't help but ponder the time and events that had led me to this place. It was unlike any other I'd ever been. Hot, muggy, wet and beautiful. It was no secret; I loved Miami and all that it had to offer. I inhaled the sweet smell of the hot sand and the tropical vegetation, happy that I had chosen to live here after I retired.

A native New Yorker, I had come here to live out my final days, which I hoped were destined to stretch on into eternity, in this scenic and wonderful state. It wasn't just the weather that kept me here: It was a way of life, a way quite unlike the constant hustle and bustle of the Big Apple. No, in Miami, things were done differently. No rushing. No mad dash to make it somewhere. Here, 'take it easy' wasn't only a phrase; It was the unwritten rule to live a happy, worry free life.

I had lived too long in a place where murder and mayhem were the catch phrases of the day, and the nights were so long, it was easy to let unsettled relationships and problems take a front seat. Don't get me wrong: I love New York as much as any New Yorker; I love the coffee, the takeout, the people and the fact that I come from one of the most amazing cities on this planet. But it was time to move on. There were too many memories there. Too many things left unsaid to the ones that I loved. Too many moments I wanted to take back but couldn't. How many nights had I lied awake, playing and replaying the events that lead up to the taking down of C.T. Finney, how many times I wondered why I had lost my best friend and how I could have ever let his name become anything other than what it once was?

It was better this way. In order for me to have ever have peace, I had to move away far enough from all of that, far away from the life I once had. From the people who had called me 'friend'. My guilty conscience still keeps me awake at night, tormenting me and making me regret so many things, I feel that I may never get over it. What other choice did we have? Did they have? There were so many questions literally no answers that could ever make up for what he had lost, what she had lost.

And so, I chose to live in a place where no one knows me, not even my neighbors and keep to myself, praying every night that God will forgive me for the things that I have done and the pain that I have caused to so many, namely, the man who was once my best friend, Ty Davis,Jr.

His name makes me shudder, his face haunts me in my dreams and I can only hope that where ever he is, that he is looking down and smiling, having forgave me for not being a better friend. For not knowing how bad off he was until it was too late.

I pick up a creamy white envelope that is propped up against my cold beer on the small end table beside my rickety lawn chair and carefully open it to peruse it contents for, perhaps, the millionth time.

My heart constricts as I look at their faces, smiling and happy. I pick up my beer, the third of the morning and down it, hoping that all of my regret and shame will go down my throat along with the cold liquid. The bottle makes a clanking sound as I carelessly plunk it down on the table.

Absently, I reach down to pick a stray piece of lint off of my blue shorts, then brush the sand off of my feet before sitting back and crossing one ankle over the other, my favorite way to sit.

The picture still in my hand, I shield my eyes from the hot morning sun so I can continue to torture myself with memories of yesterday. I close my eyes and run my hand over the blond stubble of my face. I really need a shave right about then.

Sighing, I put the picture back into the envelope and set it down on the table. There will be plenty of other times I can punish myself with it. And I deserve to be punished. I know that I don't even deserve to be here, living in my one room beach house, much less to even be alive. He needed me and I wasn't there. Is there anything worse than deserting your best friend?

I look out toward the ocean and watch a seagull hover above the water, waiting for an unsuspecting fish to come too close to the surface, and wonder if things could have been different. As if to answer me, the seagull swoops down and plucks a fish out of the water and carries it away.

I close my eyes, knowing full well that things could have been different and would have been different if it hadn't been for one man: Captain Finney. Damn him to hell.