Elena seriously considered ducking under the water and hiding until Katherine went away. How long could she hold her breath? Two minutes? Three? It was tempting, but she wouldn't give that bitch the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.
"Not a good time, Katherine. Shouldn't you be off hiding from big, bad Klaus?" Damon said, leaning back against the tub with an air of impatience.
"But I missed you, Damon," Katherine pouted, oozing her way towards them. "And your baby brother told me you're making quite a mess of things. Giving Klaus a fake coffin? I haven't decided if that's brilliant or the single dumbest idea I've ever heard," she said.
"That's where I like to live my life, Katherine: between genius and insanity," Damon said. "Did you come to help us open the real coffin, or did you just come to taunt?"
"Oh, opening the coffin? Is that what you two were doing right now? I thought you were looking for your rubber ducky," Katherine said. "Did you find it, Elena?"
Elena gripped the edges of the tub so hard she was sure the porcelain would shatter in her grasp. She was a fool to think things could be so simple. How many times did she have to say it: love alone would never be enough for them. Not with Katherine and her laughing eyes and confident sexuality, not with Damon's century and a half obsession with her. What a child she was, to think that just because they loved each other, because they'd slept together, that any of that could compare to the lure of Damon's dark lover, teacher, mother.
"That's enough, Katherine," Damon said, his tone light, but there was a warning there. He snagged a towel and pushed himself out of the bath, managing to hide most of his nakedness from Katherine's lascivious gaze. "We'll let Elena get dressed and you and I can catch up on what you've been doing since you ran away from Mystic Falls like a coward," he said pleasantly as he secured the towel around his waist.
"Sticks and stones, Damon. And what's with the false modesty? Like either of you can show me anything I haven't seen before. Especially her. Hey, Elena, do you have a mole behind your knee, too? Don't you wonder just how exact this doppelganger thing is?" Katherine said.
"I said that's enough," Damon growled, seizing her by the arm and marching her out of the room. The door shut behind them, and Elena sat alone in a sea of bubbles.
She raised her leg, running her fingers over the small brown mole on the back of her left knee. Identical. Same body. Same face. Same voice. Entirely different past. How could she ever compete with the woman Damon had loved so faithfully for so long?
"Was this the picture you were showing her? I remember this. You gave me this at the end of your leave, before you went back to the front lines," Katherine said. Her voice was soft through the bathroom door, but Elena could hear every word. Arrogant vampires. She was a human; she wasn't deaf.
"Yeah. I did. Sat for it just for you. And you left it when you ran," Damon said.
"I was in a hurry. Besides, I didn't think I'd need a picture; I thought I'd have you," Katherine said, sweet as sugar. Elena's stomach heaved as she imagined Katherine blinking up at Damon, all false innocence and ancient promises. She couldn't stand to listen anymore. She yanked the stopper from the tub, letting the draining gurgle of water block the voices in the bedroom as she toweled bubbles from her body. Some part of her knew she was overreacting, that Damon had shown time and time again that he was done with Katherine, that he was wise to her tricks and wanted to move on. But could you ever really move on from the person who'd turned you? Was it really a coincidence that both he and Stefan had wound up with Katherine's exact double? Hardly. Even if their personalities were polar opposites, it was impossible to deny that looks had played a role in their attraction.
And Katherine herself, the manipulative, evil little cunt. Elena was surprised that she would even think such a foul, hateful word, but when it came to Katherine, the shoe fit. She'd sworn her everlasting love for Stefan, but that had been when he was unattainable and Damon was available. Would she always go for the attached brother, just to stir up trouble? Or would she go back to her old tricks, impersonating Elena to get what she wanted and to sow dissension?
No. That was one thing Elena couldn't allow to happen again. Not when all it took was a flat iron and some lip gloss for Katherine to mimic her so completely. Would she kiss Stefan, convincing him of Elena's undying love for him? Or what poisonous lies could she whisper to Damon while wearing her face? It wasn't going to happen this time. Elena wrapped the towel firmly around herself and locked the door. It took her only a few moments to locate what she was looking for in Damon's drawers. Bless his old-fashioned ways. Only Damon would still use a straight razor.
There was one advantage humans had over vampires: humans could scar.
She decided on the shoulder: the mark could be hidden, but would also be easily accessible. Elena set the razor against her left shoulder blade, watching in the mirror as the edge effortlessly parted her skin. She cut as deeply as she dared, blood dripping down her back, pain blossoming sharply but sweetly.
Damon was banging on the door before she'd even finished the first cut, scenting the blood like a shark. "Elena, what are you doing? Open the door, Elena!" His voice held an edge of panic, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he broke the door down to reach her.
As quickly as she could, she repositioned the razor, neatly making another cut to form an X on her shoulder. Pressing a towel to the gushing wound, she opened the door. Damon nearly fell into the room. He spun her around, tearing the towel from her shoulder. "What the hell is this, Elena? When did you become a cutter? I thought we left that pathetic emo shit to your brother," he said, already bringing his wrist to his mouth.
"I'm starving," Katherine purred, fixated on the smudges of blood on Elena's back.
"Shut up, Katherine," Elena said. "Damon, stop that. I'm not drinking any of your blood—and I'm not a cutter. I just decided Katherine and I needed to be a little less identical."
Both vampires stared at her. Then Katherine began to laugh. "Score one for Elena Gilbert. You've grown a spine, kid."
Even Damon couldn't help but show grudging admiration, as much as he tried to hide it. "There must have been a better way of doing that, but it might just keep the bitch honest." He located the first aid kit and set about cleaning the brand, placing a clean square of gauze atop it. Elena winced, but didn't dare show any other discomfort. She wouldn't show weakness in front of Katherine.
"I'm not really feeling the love here," Katherine said. As always, it was all about her. "I came back here to help you assholes get rid of Klaus. Trust me, I'd much rather be on a beach in the Caribbean right now. So if you don't want my help, great. So much the better for me. But Emily did give me this book, and you know Bennett witches are awfully clever with opening things that are meant to stay closed..." She held up a slim, battered volume.
Katherine grinned as two pairs of eyes stared at her in shock. "Now who's the bitch?"