He knows it's a bad idea—anything involving Katherine is a bad idea—but he doesn't really care about good ideas at the moment, so he opens the door to the tomb.
"So nice of you to visit," Katherine croaks out as she slowly makes her way to the door.
"You were with a werewolf," Damon begins, his arms crossed over his chest, "weren't you ever scared he would bite you during a full moon?"
Katherine, despite her weakened state, smirks mockingly. "And what vampire are you worried about being bitten by a werewolf?" she asks. "Yourself? Stefan? Little Caroline? Is young Tyler really a threat to you already? Seems a little soon if you ask me."
Damon is not in the mood for Katherine's cavalier attitude. "Just answer the damn question," he hisses.
"Well," she says; the smirk still in place. She leans against the rock and eases herself to the floor. She must be too weak to stand by now, Damon muses. "There's no cure for a werewolf bite, least not one Mason or I knew of. It was a risk, being with him, but he was damn good in bed, so I wasn't about to give that up. I needed a werewolf, Mason fit the part, and I made sure he was detained on the full moon so he couldn't hurt anyone—namely me." She must have noticed the almost sad glint in his eyes—she always did know how to read him—for she continues, "Who couldn't you save, Damon?"
He's surprised by how genuine the question is. He knows she doesn't care about who died, but maybe she does care that it affected him. "Rose," he admits, pulling out two blood bags from the cooler he'd brought. He sits down outside the door and throws one to Katherine. "You remember her?"
Katherine rips open the bag and sucks it dry before Damon even takes his first sip. Wordlessly, he tosses her another. "Yes, I remember her," Katherine says, a little more in control now. She doesn't look so pale and sickly now. "She turned me—well, her blood did; it wasn't really an active decision on her part. How did she run into a werewolf?"
Damon sucks on the blood bag for a moment before answering. "It was coming after me. She just happened to be there."
"I'm sorry, Damon," Katherine says quietly.
Damon's smart enough to realize that she doesn't truly mean it. Not in a genuine sense, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's because the sentiment isn't genuine that he's able to hear it and not want to rip her apart for saying it. "She understood me, understood what I was doing here—why I haven't left."
"You cared about her," Katherine says, finally realizing why this is affecting him so much. "I can see why. She was, opinionated, even back when I knew her. Said what she pleased, even though she probably should have stayed quiet. Loyal too, the way she stayed by Trevor all those years. If she hadn't resented me for turning and if she hadn't been running from Klaus, who knows? We could have been friends."
Damon reflects on this. Would he have fallen for Katherine back in 1864 if she had brought Rose along? Would he have liked Rose more? Maybe none of this would have happened. They could have had a happily ever after—if such a thing were to exist and if he were the type to believe in that. As it is, Rose is dead.
"Why did you come down here, Damon?" she asks, breaking the silence.
"I wanted to know—wanted to make sure I made the right decision," Damon mutters, his thoughts still halfway in his dream of an alternate 1864 with Rose.
"You killed her?" Katherine asks quietly, looking at him with scrutinizing eyes, curiosity and amazement in her voice.
"I wanted to end the pain for her—was all I could do. I came down here to make sure I wasn't wrong."
"If it helps any," she offers, her voice soft, "that was probably the nicest thing you could have done for her. She could have lived for a few days, maybe even weeks, with the bite, but the more time that passed, the worse it would have been for her."
Damon nods and sits quietly for a little while, enjoying the presence of someone who isn't actually selflessly caring about the loss he's just suffered. Somehow, it's easier to sit with Katherine than to put up with Elena's hug.
Then he gets up. He takes the cooler and pushes it through the door. "Enjoy the little present—make it last," he says as he pulls the stone door back over the tomb opening.
