A/N: Well here it is. All shiny and new. lol No this is not by any ways a romance story. It's just...um...pretty...well you'll see. lol I hope you all enjoy it though. :)! Please review~ I love reading everyones view points. :)!!
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Tattle-Tale

"Gene McWood reporting for Channel Five News."

Gwen swallowed as the female reporter's scene was quickly gone and they were back in the studio. No way. She reached for her phone and called Courtney. She would want to know. The phone rang and rang, but Courtney never answered. The voicemail picked up;

Hey, this is Courtney, sorry I wasn't here to take your call, please leave your message after the beep and I'll get back to you! Thanks, bye!

BEEP.

"Courtney, it's Gwen. Call me back ASAP when you get this, I have something to tell you, it's important."

She hung up.

Gwen drew her legs closer to her chest as she sat on the couch. She rocked back and forth a little bit and glanced at the clock.

Midnight.

It had happened two hours ago, and they finally decided to let everyone know. She swallowed hard and rubbed her head. Not more reporters. Not more people contacting her to do interviews. It had been this way when he went away.

"How do you know him?"
"Did you have any idea he was really so dangerous?"
"Gwen, why are you defending him?"
"Are you involved with him?
"If so, for how long and does his girlfriend know?"
"Can you tell us anything about the case?"

She got up and checked her front door. Locked. Good. She reached over to the side and picked up her door-jam and placed it firmly under the doorknob. She went to her windows, closed the blinds after she locked them.

"You were the one who reported it to the police. How does it feel to report one of your long term friends?"

Terrible. That's how it felt. Stupid, assholes.

Gwen went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. Not this again. But it was the only thing that calmed her. She found herself going through at least one bottle a week when this had all started. She poured herself a glass and downed it and poured another.

She could hear the TV;

"We just received more news from Gene McWood, who is on scene at the Toronto Central Prison—."

Gwen growled.
"Shut the fuck up." She clicked the TV off. She didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know it. She squeezed the remote control until it made a cracking sound under the pressure.

She knocked the glass into the sink and it crashed into pieces. She pulled the bottle to her lips and drank as much as she could before she needed a breath. Hurry up and pass out Gwen. Pssh, like wine is going to make you pass out. But she wasn't stepping one foot out of her front door. No, not one.

Her phone rang. She rushed to it, hoping it was Courtney.
"Courtney?" She asked without even checking the caller ID.
"Um, no—but is this Ms. Gwen—"
"NO. Don't call here ever again!" She hung up. She wasn't going through it again. No more questions, no more interviews, no more TV appearances. They could bother someone else he knew. She turned her phone off and left it on the couch. She decided it would be best to try to get some sleep. After all that incident was all the way at the prison. She would be fine. Not like the prison was hundreds of miles away but it certainly wasn't a hop, skip and a jump away from her place either.

Up the stairs she went, wine bottle left in the kitchen. She walked into her dark room and flipped on the light. Check the windows. She eyed them. Check. All locked and closed, just how she left them. She started to change into her night clothes, and then decided against it—just incase. She laid down in her bed and let out a sigh. She rolled onto her side and looked at her picture of her and Trent.

He was away in Japan closing a few deals for his company. He'd be gone for at least three weeks or more, depending on how things went. This was one day she wished he was home. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

Before Gwen realized it, she was fast asleep, but her dreams weren't that. They were nightmares filled with horrific images of what he'd told her—what prompted her to tell. What scared her to the core. What made Courtney leave. She didn't believe it at first, she couldn't. He'd never been like that—or acted that way toward her or anyone else. She groaned in her sleep and woke up in a cold sweat.

Four AM. What was that cold breeze? She clicked on her lamp and her window was open and the drapes flapping in the cold Canada wind. Her heart leapt to her throat and she swore she was having something near an asthma attack. She wheezed some as she tried to fill her lungs, and finally her heart removed its self from her throat and she took a great needed breath.
"Calm down Gwen. It probably just wasn't completely closed…" She tried to tell herself as she got up and slammed it shut and pulled the drapes. She felt like she needed to search her house though. Flipping on every light she could manage, she stalked around her home; bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room.

Something crashed in the kitchen. Gwen gasped and whirled around. She ran into the kitchen to see the wine bottle in pieces and the red wine leaking onto her white tiled floor. (That was Trent's choice, Gwen had wanted black.) She was sick to her stomach watching it crawl toward her bare feet.

Another noise. Gwen turned her head to the right and saw a lone raccoon trying desperately to pull a piece of glass out of its paw. She let out a sigh of relief. Little guy had pushed her window open and knocked the wine bottle over. She smiled some and walked carefully over to him.
"Hey, little guy. Shh, it's going to be alright. I'll help you. Just one second."

And like it understood her, it looked up at her and let her handle its paw and pull a chunk of the wine bottle from its paw. "There you go, all good." She said and went to her back door and opened it. The raccoon stood up on its hind legs, sniffing the air. "Oh duh, I know why you got in here anyway." She laughed some to herself as she walked away from the open door and pulled an apple off of the counter. She handed it to the masked creature. It took it happily and went to scurry off, but it froze in place and Gwen raised an eyebrow; "You okay little guy?"

WHAM.