DISCLAIMER: The Vampire Diaries belongs to (I think) the CW. But I'm British so could easily be wrong.

!SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON FINALE!

SUMMARY: A tag-on to the Damon and Elena/Katherine scene in the series finale. Damon had spent months counting every difference between Elena and Katherine, but when it comes down to it, could he really tell them apart?

A/N: This is my first ever Vampire Diaries fic, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

DEVIL IN DISGUISE

Damon closed the door behind him quietly. He had gone over to Elena's house to try and make things better, but had ended up telling Jeremy that life pretty much sucked no matter what. Pep talks, it seemed, were not his speciality. You'd think that after over a hundred and fifty years he would have learned a little tact, but Damon was definitely not a quick learner in that particular area. At least he hadn't erased Jeremy's mind this time- now that's growth as a person. Growth as a demon. Whatever.

He barely even heard Elena approach; you could tell she had been spending time with vampires and had picked up a few tricks about sneaking around. She looked at him with that touch of suspicion which he now expected from Elena and all her friends. And Stefan, of course. He couldn't really blame them, all things considered.

She was surprised to see him there, had expected him to be off licking his wounds somewhere after the evenings debacle. A lightening-quick once over assured her that the effects of both the vervain and Jonathan Gilbert's magical gizmo had worn off. She was surprised at the depth of relief she felt. "What are you doing here?"

"A failed and feeble attempt at doing the right thing." He offered. It almost sounded like a question, but then he was out of practice with the do-gooding.

"Which was…?"

"It's not important." He hung back self consciously. In a very un-Damon mood, he actually wanted to talk. Specifically, he wanted to talk to Elena. "I'll take these for you."

She looked at him curiously, still not used to this sincere, considerate Damon though he had made quite a few appearances recently. She found herself not really sure how to act around him. "Thank you."

He smiled, not his usual smirk and that's how she knew he was being serious. "You know I came to this town wanting to destroy it. But tonight, I found myself wanting to protect it. How does that happen?" She could see the open bewilderment on his face and revelled in this rare unguared moment. "I'm not a hero, Elena. I don't do good. It's not in me."

"Maybe it is." She didn't sound very convincing. After everything she had done, he couldn't blame her; he was actually surprised that she hadn't yet given up on him.

"No," he shook his head with a humourless laugh. Even before he had become a vampire, no one had seen any good in him, except for Stefan perhaps but he had been incredibly naive back then. Still was now to an extent; Stefan was always trying to do the right thing, whatever he perceived that to be. He was the 'hero' of the family. "No, that's reserved for my brother. For you, for Bonnie. Even though she had every reason to hate me, she still helped Stefan save me."

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Because she did it for you. Which means the somewhere along the way, you decided that I was worth saving. I wanted to… thank you… for that." He cursed his nerves. He was never nervous, and her certainly never showed it. It was definitely Elena's fault. This whole moment was Elena's fault. He was practically stammering like a schoolboy, not like the grown man he was with nearly a century-and-a-half of life experience. Damn Elena. But he couldn't bring himself to hold it against her. Not that much anyway.

"You're welcome."

That was it? He had bared his soul, something she knew was so un-Damon he might as well have sprouted rainbows out his ass, and she said 'you're welcome'? He must have surprised her, hell, he was surprising himself. He stepped forward, fully expecting her to move back after her little speech earlier in the day. She didn't; a pleasant surprise.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against her cheek. He was surprised at the intimacy of it all. He had been with hundreds of women, and yet a simple touch was sometimes more intimate than anything else.

She still didn't back off; just a few hours after she had told him to stop even looking at her because of Stefan, and she didn't back off when he was completely in her personal space.

He caught her eyes, and something stirred within him. Closer still, and she still wasn't running. Elena would slap him any second now, she would start talking about his brother, her boyfriend, and about their friendship. The stinging slap didn't come. Her gaze flicked to his lips, then back to his eyes and he knew she wanted this. He could always see when she wanted him. He kissed her softly, gently. Not at all like him.

It was her who deepened the kiss.

But it was him who turned away shamed when Jenna interrupted her niece kissing her boyfriend's brother. She just walked away, brushing past Jenna as she ordered her in.

He watched her go, avoiding Jenna's judgemental stare. She went into the house, not a hint of an apology or a backwards glance. No mention of Stefan at all. Jenna closed the door behind them and Damon froze. What had just happened? He touched his lips, they were still tingling, and walked away. What had just happened?

The sound of his phone ringing brought him back to reality. Stefan. Of course. He cleared his throat and accepted the call.

"What do you want?"

"I was just wondering where you were. You disappeared." Even when he was clearly worried, Stefan still managed to sound accusing. Damon felt a (very) brief sting of regret. This would make life difficult for Stefan. It would also make life difficult for Elena which affected him far more.

"I just had to do something." He said evasively. He had shared enough for one day. God, he needed a drink. He could do with the whole bottle and that still probably wouldn't be enough.

"Are you…" Stefan cleared his throat, "okay?"

"Why brother, you almost sound concerned." Damon couldn't help but laugh. He paused, knowing how Stefan would take his next question but wanting the answer nonetheless. "Is Elena alright?"

"She's fine."

Informative as ever, Stefan. Damon clicked in annoyance. Why would anyone ever want a brother?

"You didn't…" Stefan trailed off.

"Didn't what, Stefan?" Damon asked, losing patience.

"Did you take Elena's things?"

"Why would I take…"

…Elena had come up the steps, arms laden by that ridiculous dress. He'd wanted to talk…"Here let me take that."…She had returned the kiss…Jenna had invited her into the house. She had returned his kiss…

Everything clicked into place. "Stefan, where is Elena now?"

"Why do you-"

"Stefan, I'm not messing about. Where is she?" Damon said, and Stefan must have heard the urgency in his voice because he responded immediately.

"She went home to check on Jeremy. I'm meeting her at the hospital later. Damon, what's going on?" Stefan sounded worried, Damon there was only one thing which could move the usually unflappable Damon. Only one person that had this effect.

His vampiric hearing picked up a scream in a house down the block. He knew that voice; he could pick it out in a crowd of shouting strangers. "You better get over here quickly."

"Why are you at Elena's-"

Damon cut off the call before he could hear Stefan's protests, knowing that his brother would be there within minutes. But Damon could be there within seconds. He blurred towards the house, not stopping at the threshold, slamming the door open hard enough to leave a crack running through it, and straight past a confused and worried Jenna who was also going to investigate. Damon was faster.

He burst into the kitchen to find them both standing there. Elena looking shocked, sick, scared- all clear in her face because that girl just didn't have a poker face. Under usual circumstances he would have gone to her, but he was frozen by the other person in the room. The other person was identical to the first in so many ways, and yet so completely different. It was her. Finally. If anything, Katherine looked smug, even though she had been caught red handed, mid-dragging Uncle/Daddy John Gilbert's body towards the door.

As Katherine saw him, she smirked, an expression that looked so out of place on Elena's face. And just when had it become Elena's face? For months Elena had been wearing Katherine's face, now it was suddenly the other way around.

"I knew it." Damon breathed, neither joyous nor furious, giving nothing away.

Her smirk deepened as she realised on some level he had recognised her, he had known she wasn't her descendent. She gave John one last push and shut the door, hiding him from view. It was not the way she would choose to be introduced to her identical descendent, and a part of her regretted having to kill her biological father, but it was necessary. She wiped her bloody hands on a tea towel and turned back to Damon slightly coyly, though they both knew she was never shy. "Hello Lover."

"Katherine." Her name was barely a word, just an exhalation of unneeded air. He'd spent a hundred and forty six years searching. Now she was here.

Katherine was back.

Fin.