A/N--Hey my lovelies:) This is something I had lying around on my PC and after much deliberating, I decided to Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer--Not mine. You should all know that by now;)

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Trying

Chapter 1

Honesty is a hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like
We've got it all figured out...
Just trying
To find my way
Trying
To find my way the best that I know how

-Trying, Lifehouse

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Karen watched from the doorway of her penthouse as her friends walked down the hall to the elevator. When the doors slid open, permitting their entrance, she turned and shut her front door. Sliding her shawl from her shoulders and draping it across the back of a love seat, she surveyed the room with a scrutinizing eye. Stanley hadn't really changed anything by way of furniture or decor, though a few sofas and chairs had been moved about. She would get Rosario to change them later, right now she needed to be alone. Stanley's death had been a shock to her and although she glad to be in her own home again, she never wanted it to happen in quite this way. As she wandered from room to room, looking at everything that was almost exactly like she'd left it, she felt a familiar, empty feeling well up inside her.

Possessions were one thing Karen Walker was not lacking in, money was always abundant but she couldn't say the same for everything else. Money wasn't everything and she was slowly coming to realize that. She shook her head, trailing her index finger along the top of the mantel, staring at the pictures lining it. Herself and Stanley, Olivia and Mason, and various other snapshots littered the mantel. She needed to get away for a while, without everyone else. She felt as though she was suffocating in the role she had long ago cast herself in. And she was tired. Tired of pretending she didn't care, tired of being hurt, she was even tired of relying on alcohol to get her through the day. She turned from the mantel, moving to make herself a drink.

Hearing someone clear their throat softly, Karen whirled around to see Will standing by the doorway. He waved awkwardly. "Hi."

She frowned, turning back to her mini bar and spearing two olives for her martini. "I thought you left honey."

"Me too," he moved further into the room until he was standing right next to her. "I just...I wanted to make sure you were okay."

She looked up at him, sipping her drink. "I said-"

"I know you said you were but are you really?" Will touched her arm gently.

She flinched away. Will never cared before and she couldn't help but wonder what his motives were for his sudden interest in her. Every other time he had expressed curiosity in how she was doing, he always had some kind of hidden agenda, one usually for his best interest. "What's your game, Wilma?"

"I don't have a game," he said. "I'm your friend Karen and I want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me."

"Well thanks honey," she waved a hand at him dimissively and turned around, closing various lids and containers she had opened to make her drink. "But I don't need your help. You can run back to your friends now and be on your merry way. You're still the hero and the cold bitch is still as heartless as ever."

He looked taken off guard. "Excuse me?"

"That's what this is really about isn't it?" Karen placed her drink on a nearby table and moved closer to him. "Your hero complex just wouldn't let you leave without making sure I was drunk enough to get through the day and hoping to God I didn't actually need help. Because then you would feel obligated to stay and we both know you hate me too much to do that."

"Go to hell Karen," he shook his head and turned to walk away. He stopped and faced her again. "You know what? You're right, I do hate you. The only reason I tolerate you is because for some strange reason Grace and Jack seem to like you or maybe they're just pretending too. Whatever the reason we keep you around Karen, rest assured--we don't need you anymore than you need us."

Karen gaped at him through misty eyes and Will instantly felt regret. Her husband had just died, she was merely lashing out at anyone who reached out to her. If anything, that showed how much she really did need someone and he'd basically just told her she didn't matter to her friends.

"Well," she said slowly. "That's good to know."

Before he could begin to apologize, Karen closed her mouth tightly as her maid walked into the room.

"Do you need anything, Miss Karen?" The young woman asked.

"No Hermione," Karen picked up her drink, avoiding Will's gaze. "We're done here. Please show Mr. Truman the door."

Will looked at her one last time as she turned away from him, busying herself with her liquor cabinet. He sighed, he would have to apologize later. She needed time to cool off. He followed her maid to the front door, walking away from the penthouse.

Once she heard the front door shut, Karen sat her drink aside and let the tears come. Why did she always have to screw up everything? Will was only being a friend and she had driven him to say something he normally would never say. She reached out and swiped her arm across the tabletop, sending bottles of liquor crashing to the floor. Walking away calmly as her maids scrambled to clean up after her, she climbed the staircase to her bedroom. The one she and Stanley used to share before Lorraine came along and ruined everything. But in his will, Stanley mentioned that Karen was the true love of his life and she was grateful for that small bit of gratification.

Walking into her closet, Karen pulled out a suitcase and began to stuff it full of clothes. Shirts, pants, skirts, heels, anything she could fit. She had to leave for a while, if only to clear her head and maybe find herself along the way. Picking up her bag, she tiptoed out the door and into the elevator, not wanting to alert Rosario to her absence. The woman was nosier than that annoying neighbor on Bewitched!

Finding herself standing on the sidewalk with suitcase in hand, Karen turned to stare up at the building, the life she had grown so accustomed to, a life she never had to work for. She couldn't take pride in that, she would come back when she could. Hailing a cab, Karen cautiously got in, sitting her oversized bag to her left. Cabs were something she would have to get used to. Gazing out the window as the car wove in and out of traffic, Karen pressed her hand to the glass. "Goodbye New York. Goodbye Jackie, and Gracie and Will. I'll be back...one day."

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The following morning, Will knocked on the door of Karen's penthouse holding a peace offering--a bottle of bourbon. He felt terrible about what he'd said and he just wanted to make things better. He hadn't meant a word of it and he hoped Karen knew that. He tapped his foot as he waited for a maid to get to the door, Karen would never answer it herself even if she was closer. Finally, Rosario came to the door, swinging it open and looking at him with a grave expression on her face.

"Hi Rosie," he smiled as he walked past her and into the manse, looking around. "Where's Karen?"

"I don't know," she said, looking at the ground.

"Well could you find her?" Will gave her a look.

Rosario frowned. "She's not here Mr. Will. No one's seen her since you left last night. I don't know where she is."

Will felt his stomach drop. "What do you mean 'not here'? She's been gone all night?"

The maid nodded.

"Why the hell didn't you call me?"

She glared up at him. "If I remember correctly, you were the reason Miss Karen emptied her mini bar onto the floor and went up to her bedroom in tears without saying a word to anyone."

Guilt filled Will to the very core of his being. He had never seen Karen cry and he hated to think that his thoughtless words, spoken in the heat of anger, had caused her so much pain. "You could have called the police."

She shook her head. "No cops."

"Listen, I don't know a whole lot about Karen's past but I'm pretty damn sure that finding her is more important than whatever she's done!" He ran a hand through his hair, setting the bottle of bourbon on a nearby table. He had no use for it now. "Are you sure she's not here? It's a pretty big place--"

"There's a staff of thirty, Mr. Will. Every one of them spent four hours turning the manse upside down looking for her. She's not here. And one of her suitcases is missing."

Will sank down into a chair, looking distraught. "Maybe she's staying with a friend. Marlo--"

"I've already called everyone I can think of. No one's heard from her and she's not close enough to any of them to even ask to stay with them." Rosario frowned. "You, Jack and Grace are the only people she's got."

Will shook his head. "There's got to be something we can do. We can't just--just sit here and hope she shows up! I mean what if she--what if she's hurt or scared? New York is a big city, we'll never find her. This place is full of criminals and creeps, they could hurt her!"

Rosario reached out and slapped Will lightly across the cheek. "Hey, bozo! Miss Karen is not a child, she can take care of herself. She'll come home when she's ready, she probably just needed to get away for a while."

"I wish I could write off my friend's disappearance as easily as you," he snapped, turning and walking out.

---

Not wanting to tell Grace and Jack about Karen's disappearance just yet, Will spent the day at his office, calling around and asking everyone he could think of if they had seen the eccentric socialite. One couldn't help but notice her so he knew if they couldn't remember seeing her, they most likely had not. By the end of the day he was out sources and feeling the guilt of what he'd said. Would Karen really leave over something he said? Surely she knew he didn't mean it.

Will left his office as the sun was setting, knowing he had to get back and tell his friends that Karen was gone. There was no trace of Karen, it was as if she had disappeared. She wasn't using her credit cards, knowing she could be tracked that way. Wherever she was, she had used cash to get there. Her name wasn't on any flight lists, not even her alias, Anastasia Beaverhausen. If she didn't get on a plane, then where was she? Karen Walker could get anywhere undetected, the only problem was staying that way. He walked out onto the street, defeated. Grace and Jack would be upset, he knew. He just hoped Karen would come to her senses and come home.

---

"Flight 107, International flight to Chicago now ready for boarding."

Karen checked her ticket as she waited by the gate. That was her flight. She looked around, seeing her last bit of New York for what she hoped to be a long time. It was time for her to make some changes in her life and the only way she could do that was to make a fresh start, a clean slate.

It was a different woman that boarded the plane to Chicago, her voice was a little deeper, her hair a little shorter and a little less perfect, her clothes were not hers. She had paid a woman her size to trade clothes with her, she was now wearing a worn in pair of jeans with holes in the knees, black converse shoes and a t-shirt with Boy George's face on the front. She carried no alcohol with her, no prescription pills. That was the old her, the new her was sober. She took her seat, trying her best to appear relaxed and easy-going instead of uncomfortable and a nervous wreck. If anyone could tell she was faking it, they didn't mention it to her.

She looked up as a man with dark hair and blue eyes sat down next to her, putting his briefcase on the floor next to him. He looked over at her, took in her clothing and apparent lack of money and turned away without even a smile in her direction. Karen felt insulted before she realized what she must have looked like--certainly not like Karen Walker. Karen Walker would have snubbed her nose at someone who looked like she did now. It was a look of disgust, and maybe a little pity. It was the first time she had ever been on the receiving end of one of those looks and she didn't like it one bit.

Deciding she wanted nothing to do with the businessman, she turned in her seat and came face to face with another man, this one a little younger and scruffy looking. He was tapping his fingers against his knees, dressed in a ACDC t-shirt and faded blue jeans with shaggy red hair. He smiled at her and quit his consistent thrumming against his knees. "Sorry, that's probably bothering you." He glanced down at his long fingers before looking up at her again through his unruly hair. "I'm a drummer, it's kinda hard for me to sit still."

Karen gave him a complacent smile. Normally she would have been fascinated with someone so different than herself, but she was too nervous about what was going to happen once the plane took off to care about the young man's twitching hands.

He frowned at her, already tapping again. "You seem a little anxious. You're not afraid of flying are you? Cause if you are, you're on the wrong mode of transportation."

She smirked. "Honey, I'm not afraid of flying. I'm afraid of crashing."

He laughed and smiled at Karen, holding out his hand. "Hi. I'm Ian Danes."

Karen stared at his hand for a second before taking it. "I'm..." She couldn't use her real name, she was no longer Karen Walker of Manhattan. She couldn't use her alias, her friends knew it all too well. "I'm Ana. Ana Mcfarland."

As the plane took off, Karen turned to stare out the window, watching as New York became just a tiny dot below her and she left Karen Walker farther and farther behind. She only wished she knew what she was going to do now.

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