Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Snow White Queen".

Note: This has been, by far, my favorite chapter to write. This song is so dark and twisted, and fits Kurt's situation PERFECTLY right now. Again, thanks ever so much for the reviews!

"Santana, Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell would like to talk to you. Here's a pass to see her."

"Okay," Santana said, taking the pass, and looking thoroughly confused. She gathered up her books and exited the history classroom. She might as well get over this now. She walked into the guidance office, not knowing what to expect.

"Hello, Santana," Emma said. "Oh, please, take a seat."

Santana sat down slowly. "Why am I here?"

"I, uh, I heard that you've been, um, emotional this week," Emma said.

"Yeah. I'm on the rag."

"Oh," Emma said, not knowing how to respond. "So you're attributing your emotional outbursts to premenstrual syndrome?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "PMS. You're a woman, you know how it goes."

Emma nodded. "I also hear you have a newfound friendship with Kurt?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I thought you hated each other."

Santana shook her head. "Not anymore. It was all a big misunderstanding."

"Ah, I see."

"Mrs.…um, Howell?"

"Pillsbury-Howell," Emma corrected her.

"Sorry. Have you ever…loved someone who was like…tied to someone else? Even though they knew you loved them?"

"Yes," Emma said, thinking for a moment of Will.

"How did you handle it?"

Emma looked at her in surprise. "Well, not in the best way, I'm afraid. I ended up letting him go. I was, um, afraid. Afraid of letting myself go. Afraid of, well, of love."

Santana looked down. "Oh," she whispered. "Well, if that's all you wanted to talk to me about, can I go back to class now?"

Emma smiled a small smile. "Sure," she said. "And if you ever want to talk, you know, girl talk, my door is always open."

Santana nodded. "Got it." She gathered her belongings and started to go.

"Wait, Santana," Emma called after her. Santana turned around. "If you see Kurt on your way, can you please tell him to come see me?"

"Yeah, sure, okay," Santana said quickly, surprised.

"Thanks," Emma said as Santana closed the door.

What was that all about? Santana thought.

The tall, pale boy walked by her then. "Hey, Kurt, Mrs. Pillsbury…Howell…Emma wants to see you," she called to him.

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Dunno," Santana said. "She wanted to talk to me, and now I guess she wants to talk to you."

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Kurt whispered fiercely.

"No," Santana whispered back. "I didn't tell her anything. Not even about me. And I suggest you do the same before she gets on both of our cases."

He hooked pinkies with her. "Agreed." He rolled his eyes and continued on to the bathroom, his original destination. After he was done, he sighed and gritted his teeth. Might as well get this over with now, he thought. He went towards Emma's office, taking his sweet time, not wanting to do this.

"Kurt, hi," she said as he entered.

"Santana said you wanted to talk to me?" It came out as more of a question than a statement.

"Uh, yes," Emma said, gesturing for him to sit down. He did.

"So I heard you've been a little emotional this week."

Kurt shrugged.

"Anything in particular upsetting you?"

He shrugged again.

"Aren't you guys doing songs related to, um, domestic violence?"

He nodded curtly.

"That must be hard," Emma remarked.

He shrugged a third time.

"Do you wanna talk to me?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"Come on, Kurt, you gotta talk to someone. What about Santana? I hear you're BFFs with her now."

Kurt cringed at the sound of the guidance councilor trying to be cool.

"Um, no," he said. "Well, I mean, we're friends, but we're not 'BFF's." He put air quotes around the slang term. "My best friend is Mercedes."

"Oh, of course," Emma said hurriedly. "But you're friends with Santana?"

"Yes," Kurt said slowly, not sure where this was going.

"But I thought you hated each other." Maybe Kurt would give her more information than Santana had.

"Nope," Kurt said. Well, so much for that, Emma thought.

"So no reason for being extra-emotional this week?"

"Nope."

"You don't wanna tell me anything?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

She sighed. "Well, all right, then. But if you ever need to…" He waved her off.

"I know, I know." He got up and left without another word.

Emma phoned Will on the inter-phone school. "Well?" he answered.

"Neither of them would tell me anything," she said, frustrated. "Santana blamed it on her period, and Kurt wouldn't even say anything."

Mr. Schuester sighed. "Okay. Thanks for trying, Emma."

"Anytime, Will." She hung up. She would just have to keep trying, before either of them got seriously hurt. She knew, she just knew, that something was going on, but she also knew that it would not be easy to get to either of them. She would work on Santana first. She'd seemed more emotionally open today. But how to do this?

Later that day in Glee, Santana and Kurt sat next to each other. Nobody dared to say anything about the newborn friendship; they had been waiting for the day that these two would get along. They also did not want to test either of their emotions, seeing as how off-the-charts the duo had been lately.

"Hey, guys, sorry I'm late," Mr. Schue said, running in. "Any volunteers to go first today?"

Kurt stood up. "Me," he said. Santana looked at him curiously. What did Miss…oh, screw it, Emma…have to talk to him about? She wondered. He felt her eyes on her, and turned around, giving her hand a squeeze. "Let me do this," he mouthed. She gave a slight, dazed nod.

Kurt walked a few steps forward to the center of the room. He turned around, his back to the group. He took a breath and began to quietly sing.

Stoplight, lock the door.
Don't look back.
Undress in the dark,
And hide from you,
All of you.

Mr. Schuester looked at Kurt inquisitively. Why did he have his back turned to the group? Was this some sort of gimmick that would go along with this song (which Will had never heard before, by the way)? He was even more worried about the soprano boy now that Emma hadn't been able to get through to him. Why wouldn't he talk to anyone? Kurt hadn't even been talking to Mercedes all that much lately. He seemed to be devoting all of his time to either solitude or to Santana. Will didn't know which one was stranger.

You'll never know the way your words have haunted me.
I can't believe you'd ask these things of me.
You don't know me.
No one ever…

Kurt began to have another flashback, but pushed it away for now. Not now, he reprimanded his subconscious. As much as it tried to come, Kurt tried to push it away violently. Yes, the words haunted him. And yes, he couldn't believe that he'd asked those things of him. But right now, this was what Kurt least wanted. He turned around suddenly to deliver the first chorus with fire and abandon.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore, my love, 'cause all I want is you.

Kurt descended into a dark flashback, the one he had been repressing for months. But alas, here it was. "All I want is you," Da—moaned, leaning over Kurt, backing him into the locker. "And I want you now." Kurt looked desperately for a way to escape. "There's nowhere to run," the terror whispered. "So let's just get it over." He pressed his mouth to Kurt's, and Kurt whimpered. "Shut up," the Voice moaned. "You know you like it." He jammed his tongue into Kurt's mouth in desperation.

Wake up in a dream.
Frozen fear.
All your hands on me.
I can't scream
I can't scream...

His hands were on Kurt's shoulders, holding him back against the locker firmly. Kurt struggled for a few moments, then went limp. He knew he couldn't fight Him off, as He was twice the size of Kurt. Kurt couldn't scream. The screams were all stuck somewhere between his heart and his mouth, perhaps in the throat region.

I can't escape the twisted way you think of me.
I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep.
I don't sleep…

"I want you and all of you," He said, unbuttoning Kurt's pants quickly, fumbling with the zipper. He moaned at the sight of Kurt's underwear, licking his lips. Kurt trembled, dreading what would become of him. But it was too late, He was already unbuttoning his own pants rapidly.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you

"Soon, I know you'll see you're just like me," He whispered hotly. He pulled Kurt's underwear down around his ankles, moaning again at the sight of Kurt fully exposed. "Yes, yes," He said. He yanked down his own boxers. Without another word, he pushed Kurt down to the floor so that he landed on his knees. Without another word, he penetrated Kurt with one swift word, moaning and panting as he finally got what he wanted. "Don't scream anymore, my love, 'cause all I want is you."

I can't save your life,
Though nothing I bleed for is more tormenting.
I'm losing my mind and you just stand there and stare as my world divides.

Kurt felt a tear roll down his cheek, but he did not cry out. He could not cry out. He could not make a single sound, for fear of his life. He just lay there and let Him do what He wanted to do, which was to have Kurt, and all of Kurt. He lay there and breathed slowly, in and out. It'll all be over soon, he told himself.

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you
Oh, all I want is you
All I want is you

He finished with another quick thrust and a satisfied groan. "Told you you'd see that I'm just like you," he whispered, pulling out of Kurt. "Just like you, faggy boy." Kurt continued to lie there, not daring to get up. He sensed Him pulling on His clothes again. Before He left, He whispered hotly into Kurt's ear. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you. Got that? I'll kill you." Kurt lay there for twenty minutes, until he was sure it was safe to get up. He slowly pulled his underwear back up and his pants. Damaged, he was so damaged…

As the song ended, Kurt pulled himself out of the flashback, shuddering.

Santana looked at him, eyes wide. She'd known what had happened to Kurt in the locker room. She was the only one who knew, the only one. She had to tell someone, she just had to…Kurt noticed her expression and shook his head 'no'. She slid down in her chair. She couldn't watch him self-destruct like this anymore.

But the only thing that both Kurt and Santana knew how to do was self-destruct.

Self-destruct and watch themselves go up in smoke.

Just like the smoke left from the flames.