A/N: I'm going to do something I don't normally do... trying to update three WIPs at the same time. It's ambitious, and also proof that I am crazy, but I also am proud of this story and want to start posting it. :) I don't own CSI:NY, CBS, or any other known entity. Chapter titles coincide with the lyrics of the title song, "Tangled" by Maroon 5, and don't always correlate to what's going on in the chapter, but sometimes they do. Mostly, it's just following the song. ;) The story will include some themes that can be uncomfortable, including someone dying, and a bunch of characters will be going through many journies in this. This can get somewhat confusing, but I think you guys will do fine with following it. It starts in Season 5 with Veritas, so anything that has aired for the season is fair game. Also, this story is inspired by rumors and spoilers, so a few things that have not been shown yet will pop up. For those who love ships, there may be one or two here and there within, but there is not D/L. The reason I say that now is so there is no confusion later on. Please refer back to this as needed. I hope you guys enjoy this story, and please review. :)

Prologue- I'm Full of Regret…

He watched from a relatively safe distance as frustration rolled off of her with every move she made. He understood what was going on, because he was frustrated too. Everyone was working their asses off to find the son of a bitch that abducted Mac, because they all wanted him behind bars.

But, between samples, he snuck glances at her.

She really was beautiful, in every way. She was very good looking, and sweet as anyone with him. Especially when he was having a bad day. It seemed she always knew when he was having a bad day, and that's what made her such a valuable friend to him.

Today probably would end up being one, given what he'd done, but he couldn't help it. He'd do it again in a heartbeat. So, after putting the last sample in the machine, he sighed, and prepared himself for a hard discussion.

Nothing was going to make this easy.

He walked into Mac's office, finding the older man staring out the window. "I did something," he said nervously. Mac turned to face him, and Adam felt his hands start shaking involuntarily.

Now or never.

"Should you be drinking with a concussion?" she asked, plopping next to him at the bar. Mac turned to his companion with a shrug.

"Ask Hawkes," he replied, gesturing toward the crowd and the last place he saw the doctor head off to.

"He came with you?" Her voice held a twinge of amusement, and Mac nodded, shrugging.

"He's concerned."

"We all are." She put her hand on his shoulder, and he sighed, twisting his face into a thoughtful look.

"I'm a big boy, Stella," he told her, much like she had told him a few years ago after Frankie's attack.

"I know you are," she told him. "We all know you are. You're one of the strongest people I know. But, every once in a while, it's okay to…"

"I'm fine, Stella." He cut a sharp look toward her, and she shook her head.

"Whatever you say, Mac," she told him, patting his shoulder before picking up her drink and leaving the bar. He sighed, sitting there for a few minutes before looking off to where she had gone.

Stella worked her way through the floor, finding that Hawkes had stumbled on Danny and Flack in the corner. "Hey, guys," she said, joining them.

"Stell, how you doin'?" Flack asked, making room for her to sit.

"I'm good, Don." The conversation was rather light as Mac walked up to the table to join them. They made room for him as well, and Don turns to Mac.

"Should you be drinking with a concussion?" he asked.

"He's fine," Hawkes told them, watching Mac. Mac stared at his beer, silent, as everyone's eyes turned to him.

"You heard the doctor," he told them without looking up. They chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, we did," Danny said. "So, did anyone see that game tonight? Holy cow…"

As Danny, Flack, and Hawkes chatted about baseball, Stella watched Mac with concern. She heard him grumble softly. "I swear to you, Stella, I'm fine," he said quietly.

"You're more quiet than usual," she replied. He shrugged.

"I'm thinking. I like to think."

"Don't think too hard," she told him gently, patting his arm before turning back to the younger three men with them.

His phone rang, bolting him awake. "Adam Ross," he said tiredly.

"Adam?" she replied, her voice soft and sweet with a touch of fear. "I know it's really late, but I need your help."

"Kendall?"

"Adam, please. I need your help."

"I'll be right there. Just tell me where you are."

"I'm outside your apartment. Can you buzz me in?"

"Yeah, yeah." He stood up, trying to wake up as he walked over to the buzzer. He let her in, hanging up the phone and walking into the other room. He threw on pants as she knocked on his door. Throwing open the door quickly, he took in her appearance.

She was disheveled, shaken up, and crying. He frowned at seeing his best friend, and someone he cared about, look so broken. "Kendall?" he asked gently as she stood shaking before him.

"Adam, I really need your help…"