Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I don't own the X Files, and the St Francis of Assisi Hospital, Iowa, is entirely fictional (as far as I know...) In fact, it's named after the church at the bottom of my road. I'm very sorry about the wait - I did warn you, but I didn't realise I'd be *this* long. Holidays/homework conspired against me.

"Hello, Mr. Mulder?"

Fox Mulder tried to answer and was prevented by a sudden wave of dizziness that was his price for getting up so fast. He groped for the coffee table and leaned his weight on it, hearing it groan in protest but uncaring.

The inevitable headache rolled in in amiable waves, and he pressed the other hand to his forehead.

"God-damn!" he moaned, barely managing to keep the receiver sandwiched between his shoulder and cheek.

The man on the end of the phone seemed to have heard that. He asked in a concerned, but understandably wary tone, "Mr. Mulder? Mr. Fox Mulder? Are you there? Who is this?"

Mulder worked his way around the room to the couch, and lay full out on it, head and heels on opposite armrests. He talked in a pained, guttural voice to the telephone. "Yeah, I'm Fox Mulder. Who's this, sorry?" He had an inkling that the old guy had told him his name a few minutes ago, or at least where he was calling from, and the fact that he couldn't remember either frightened him.

"Hello, Mr. Mulder. This is Nick Barrow from St. Francis of Assisi Hospital. Dana Scully is missing, presumed abducted, from the hospital."

The terrible news shook him almost as much as the news of Scully's pregnancy had. Dana - his partner, his soul mate- so beautiful and vivacious in the view of shock news and a fainting spell. God, how he loved that woman.

Remembering the patient caller, he asked in a subdued voice, "Since how long?"

"We don't know. It might've been any time between 12-o clock and 3. The nurse on duty found her bed empty at 3.07 this morning."

Attempting to deal with the revelation, he closed his eyes, finding little comfort in the darkened solace of his own lids. He tipped his head back and forth, as if to shake his brains into working. All he achieved was a searing agony that split his mind in two, and he cried out.

"Mr. Mulder? Are you coming to the hospital? Mr. Mulder?"

"Yeah, gimme a few moments to... get my head together." Dully, he threw the receiver at the base and missed completely. He swore quietly and threw a pillow at the phone. The phone slid off the table, the plug came out of the wall, and the whole thing made an ungodly crash as it hit the floor.

Mulder screamed his frustration, fear, anger and grief to the ceiling, then rolled over and wept. This was so unlike him, he wept harder, racking sobs shaking his whole body.

Scully was gone, and he loved her, and he was afraid for her, angry at those supposed to be caring for her, and wildly depressed by the thought that something so dangerous could happen because of him. After all, everything in her life was now overshadowed by the X Files, which were in themselves a direct result of his stubborn inability to let the past be gone.

Scully. The beautiful, intelligent woman his own deadly character flaw had doomed. She didn't deserve this fate. She was meant for something better. Where was she? What could he do?

"Everything!" he answered himself through tears. He was at least partially recovered now, and he was sat up. Vaguely ashamed of himself for being so weak and selfish, he was still unable to stop silent tears coursing down his face and ignored them at any rate. If anyone could still help Dana Scully, it was him.

'This is what she dreamt,' a nasty voice reminded him, one that evidently originated from his own head. 'You went after her and then you...' He squeezed wet eyes shut, a clamp on his thoughts. Sightlessly, he fumbled for his cell phone and called the two people he knew would at least try to help him.

One of them answered after the second ring. "Doggett," a gravelly voice intoned.

"John, is Monica with you?" Mulder demanded urgently.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then John Doggett answered cautiously, "Mulder? Fox Mulder? Is that you? Yes, Agent Reyes is here."

"Yeah, it's me Doggett. Listen - and tell Monica too. Dana's gone."

"Dana Scully is gone? What do you mean?" Mulder heard a sharp intake of breath, then a small scuffling sound. The next voice he heard belonged to Monica Reyes.

"Mulder? What's happening, where are you?"

"Scully's been kidnapped from hospital. She's pregnant and we're in Iowa."

Reyes gasped again, and so did Doggett, who had apparently heard.

"Scully's pregnant? But... how? I thought..."

"We don't know," Mulder admitted. "I gotta go." He hung up before they could hold him any longer. Slowly, grimacing, Mulder levered himself off the couch and went to the medicine cabinet, swallowing an aspirin and forsaking the customary drink to wash it down with. Grimly, he closed the hinged door and looked at the mirror on the front. The man staring back at him looked exhausted, but otherwise fine. He wiped his face on his shirtsleeve, shrugged into a jacket and started to jog in the direction of the hospital.