We're up over 40,000 words in this little story, which completely blows my mind. It's all thanks to your encouragement, friendship, reviews, and alerts that I'm still doing this, so I want to thank you. PM me your story ideas—a scene you'd love to see, a missing moment, an idea you've always had, from the show or from "Consumed," any characters. I'll pick one idea (or more if they're really good) and write a short story when we hit 50,000 words as away of showing my thanks. Because you guys are just incredible.

Oh, you didn't come to hear me babble? You came to watch pretty people in dangerous and emotional situations? If you insist.


Afternoon sun was streaming into the bedroom when Elena finally awoke the next day. It was a mark of Damon's exhaustion that he was still asleep. The torture had taken its toll. Even with the impressive amount of blood he'd consumed yesterday, ghostly scars still peppered his chest and a puckered gash marred his stomach. She knew the scars would be gone before the day was over, but it was a testament to Klaus' skill that any trace of the ordeal remained. Even a vampire could only heal so quickly.

Bit by bit, Elena eased out of Damon's grasp and then out of bed entirely. Let him sleep for a while longer. The odds were good that something awful would happen soon; he'd need all his strength to deal with whatever was in the coffin.

That damn coffin. All their plotting, planning, hoping and scheming had come to nothing. A quick glance at her phone revealed texts from Stefan. No new information. A text from Bonnie letting her know she and her mom were alive and well was comforting, but still not useful. What if the coffin had been a red herring all along? What if Klaus had arranged for the mystery coffin to distract them from what he really wanted—his siblings? Had they created a decoy of a decoy? But then why would the witches have sent Bonnie those dreams that told her how to open it? Why had Klaus acted so desperate to get it back if it was all a ruse?

Elena's head hurt. She couldn't ponder any of this without coffee. Knowing her luck, whatever had been in there would stroll into the kitchen any time now, so she might as well face it fully caffeinated. She lay her teddy bear on the pillow beside Damon, its black, glassy eyes watching him.

To her surprise, Ric was already awake and staring at the coffee pot while it percolated. "You sure you should be up?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"Why not? I'm good as new, thanks to Damon," Ric said with a twinge of bitterness. "And to you."

"Don't thank me. Not for that," Elena said. In truth, she didn't even want to think about what had happened last night, much less talk about it. She knew it was their only option, that no ambulance could have arrived in time to save him. But she'd never forget the feel of the knife as it slid into his body, the death rattle, the fixed stare.

The coffee pot buzzed, and the two busied themselves with the quiet routine of fixing their cups—extra cream and sugar for Elena, black and bitter for Alaric. "Just wish I could've seen the bastard's face and settled this once and for all," he said.

Elena hesitated. They'd told him about Bill last night, but hadn't gone into any detail. "You probably should know that the knife that killed Bill was one of yours. So was the stake that killed the medical examiner. Damon recognized both of them."

Alaric nearly spat out his coffee. "What?"

"'fraid there's more bad news," Damon said as he breezed into the kitchen. He plucked Elena's mug from her fingers, taking a sip. He grimaced. "Little coffee with your sugar, Elena? Yuck."

"You can't drink my coffee and then complain about it. Get your own," Elena protested, reclaiming her cup.

"Forget the coffee. What do you mean, 'more bad news'?" Ric asked..

Damon took his time pouring his own cup of coffee. Black. "Had a little chat with Liz last night. Apparently they found fingerprints on that stake from the first murder." He nodded towards Elena. "They were a match for yours."

It was Elena's turn to choke on her coffee. "But that's impossible!"

"Impossible for them to be your fingerprints. But let's think, who's identical to you in every way and would love to frame you for murder?" Damon asked.

Understanding dawned. "That bitch!" Elena spat. She hadn't even considered that the two of them shared fingerprints, of all things. "Don't you wonder how exact this doppelganger thing is?" Katherine had asked. And she'd known all along just how exact it was. Down to the very tips of their fingers.

"That's Katherine for you," Damon said.

"Wait a minute," Ric said, trying to catch up. "Assuming Katherine's back in town-"

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot to mention that. She is," Elena said.

"Thanks for keeping me in the loop, guys," Ric said with annoyance. "You don't think I might need to know these kinds of things?"

"Next time, we'll make an appointment to bring you up to speed. We'll put it right between 'binge drinking' and 'wooing Dr. Psycho,'" Damon said.

Alaric shot Damon a dirty look. "If it was your psychotic ex-girlfriend who's been killing people, that means it wasn't Meredith," he said.

"Doesn't mean she's still not crazy," Damon retorted.

Elena sighed and set her mug down. They could be at this for a while. She began rooting around in the pantry. Noodles. A jar of tomato sauce. Did they still have any ground beef in the freezer? She began collecting ingredients while the boys argued over Dr. Fell's sanity and guilt.

"And what would Katherine's motive be, anyway? She always has a reason for killing," Damon mused.

"Oh, you mean a better reason than 'you pissed me off'?" Alaric asked.

"Ouch. Low blow. I thought we were past that," Damon said.

"How do you get past someone killing you?"

"You got better!"

Hmm. No ground beef. Someone should probably go to the store. Vegetarian it was. Elena dumped her ingredients on the counter and began crushing cloves of garlic with a satisfying smack of her knife. The boys turned towards her, seeming to notice her for the first time since their argument began.

"What are you doing?" Damon asked.

"Making lasagna," Elena answered, giving the next clove a solid thwack.

"You say that like it's the most natural thing in the world," Ric said.

"It is. Someone died. So I'm making a casserole," Elena explained. "Or did you two get so wrapped up in fighting that you forgot that Caroline lost her dad?" Caroline had kept Elena and Jeremy fed for weeks after their parents had died. Chicken casserole. Tuna noodle casserole. Hash brown casserole. After Jenna's death, it had been a constant stream of baked goods, banana bread and cupcakes and cookies left on the doorstep or foisted on Elena with the explanation that Caroline had just made too many. Even though Caroline didn't technically need to eat anymore, lasagna was the absolute least Elena could do for her friend right now.

Damon and Ric exchanged a look. Ric sighed. "I'm going to go talk to Meredith. Try to figure this shit out," he said.

"She could still be dangerous, Ric. Don't let her get you alone," Elena said. He nodded. A moment later, they heard his car retreat down the driveway.

Damon selected a knife and reached for an onion, beginning to dismantle it with sure strokes. They worked in silence, assembling the lasagna layer by layer. Elena didn't speak until they'd put the cheesy concoction into the oven. "When were you going to tell me about the prints?"

"I thought you had enough on your plate last night, Elena. And since I was pretty sure you hadn't killed anyone—and Liz was, too—I didn't think it mattered much," he said, dumping the cutting boards into the sink.

"It doesn't, I guess. It's just...I can't escape her. She is me. I was stupid to think I could ever really get away from her." She indicated her shoulder vaguely.

"Hey. Hey. Let's not start that again," Damon said. "You look like Katherine; you are not Katherine." He wiped his hands on a towel, crossing back over to her. "Katherine never would have walked into that mansion all by herself. Katherine wouldn't have threatened to die for anyone, least of all me." He smiled. "Katherine definitely wouldn't have left a teddy bear to watch over me so I wouldn't be alone when I woke up this morning. Nice touch, by the way." One arm snaked around her waist. "You aren't her. Never have been and never will be." He rested his chin atop her head. "We may want to consider burning your prints off, though. As a precaution."

She laughed. How was it that he always knew just what would make her feel better? She loved Damon. Could Katherine do that, really love someone more than she loved herself? Elena wasn't so sure. "Not quite yet. Let's see what she's up to first, then we can take drastic measures."

They finished cleaning the kitchen while the lasagna baked. Elena was headed out the door with the hot dish when she noticed a note card on the doormat. She frowned, turning back towards the house.

"What is it? Did you forget something?" Damon asked curiously.

"No," Elena said, pulling the thick paper from its creamy velum envelope. "It's an invitation. From Klaus."