Mulder had an idea, and of course the Gunmen wanted in on it. Thing was, Byers was going to be away longer than he'd anticipated, so that was going to leave the trio a man short. Frohike and Langly had no problem signing on for the road trip. Driving across the country would prove to be difficult, especially with Mulder's incessant chattering. Frohike volunteered to do most of the driving with Ringo riding shotgun, handling the GPS. Loquacious Mulder had no problem sharing the back seat with Scully so he could talk her ears off to his heart content.

Ringo still hadn't said anything to Mel about his secret; he still hadn't found a reason to do so...yet. He was thankful that Melvin hadn't brought up the medication he'd led Frohike to believe were iron pills, who knew than to press Ringo about it. When he was ready, he would say something.

So, here the four of them were, traveling to Marfa, Texas, following a probably empty lead that Mulder had gotten. He was bent on finding those little green men he was always running after. Scully, forever the skeptic, was here to temper Mulder, as always. Lately, though, she was more inclined to give him the generous benefit of the doubt. It wasn't like she hadn't witnessed scores and scores of fantastic events and incidences to remain as biased as she'd once been before throwing in with Fox. He was Spooky Mulder; she was Sympathetic Scully.

The Gunmen kept both of them honest.

Finally, after six straight hours of Mulder's endless jargon, Scully resorted to drugging him to put him to sleep, giving her fellow road trippers a little quiet time. Langly breathed a sigh as the welcome silence seeped through the van; the only noise came from the engine. It was surprising that for such a vintage model, it ran so well, all credit going to Ringo for keeping it in such good working condition.

With Mulder temporarily out of commission, Scully, Frohike and Langly could succinctly discuss the game plan for what came next.

"So, what's this new lead, Mulder told you about, Frohike?" Scully asked, giving her knocked out partner the eye.

Sighing, Melvin gave Scully an admiring look through the rear view mirror. Respect for her washed over him, thinking that he would always love having her around for companionship. "Well, supposedly, there's a wild bunch of subhuman creatures running loose in Marfa whenever the lights turn up. Right up Mulder's alley."

It was Scully's turn to shoot him a look courtesy the rear view mirror. Typical of Mulder, having her chase after freaky, elusive creatures again. Pouting with a sigh, she shook her head and gave Mulder a sloppy shove in annoyance.

"Don't worry, he's being dumped off to see his amazing lights, he won't be with us to see anything," Melvin tried to soothe, turning around to flash her a sporty grin. He lost that grin when Ringo groaned, not so quietly, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You okay over there, pal?"

Ringo shrugged, dragging a hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that saturated him. He groaned again, prompting Melvin to quickly pull over to the widened shoulder of the road when Langly grabbed for the door handle that seemed to jig before his eyes. Frohike barely had the van still before Ringo bolted out to hit a patch of grass where he vomited violently. Melvin slammed the gear into park and leaped out to help him. Ringo had pulled his long blond hair back as he dry heaved.

Scully ran from the van, leaving Mulder, who was still out like a light. She charged up to the men, sharing a surprised look with Melvin. Worried about Ringo, since he'd grown on her after all this time, she considered him a close friend. Her tone of voice betrayed just how concerned she was. Frowning, she watched Melvin try getting Ringo to stand, and asked, "Can you stand, Langly?" He was still on his hands and knees. She moved in intent on feeling his forehead. He was clammy and burning with fever, which put her on high alert. "You're really ill!"

Ringo swayed, still in his crawling position. He tried not to sulk, and nodded weakly, wiping his face on his damp T-shirt. "Still getting used to my iron pills. Man-they're absolutely horrible!"

Mel rapidly saw a golden opportunity. He nudged Scully, mouthing, "Glove box" to her. He knew Ringo had put the pill bottle in there, undoubtedly another lame attempt to keep what he was taking hidden from everyone. Finding the pills, Scully instantly knew that they were far from being iron pills.

"Who gave you these?" she demanded, coming back to Langly and Frohike, scowling. "These are not iron pills, Langly. Where'd you get these drugs?"

Ringo clammed up; only groaned. Finally, he whined, "It's personal, not really safe to talk about."

"You're not dying, are you?" Mel asked, his tone raw, revealing his absolute fear of losing this dear friend. "I mean, come on Ringo; you know you can tell us anything. What did the doctor say?"

"Can we just get back on the road please?" Ringo snapped, his fear of being found out clouding his mind. "We gotta get there and check this tip out."

Melvin barked, "All right-all right, but hear this: We're stopping at the first motel we come to for the night. You and I are gonna talk about this. I've known they're not iron pills since the other day when I asked you about them. I just didn't say anything because it wasn't my business. But now it is because we're not gonna let you make yourself sick by taking whatever it is you're taking."

Back in the van, Ringo sat with his arms across his chest and his feet up on the dash, his head turned toward the open window to stay in the cool air. Maybe he'd better tell them what his plans were and face the consequences. Scully and Melvin kept quiet, as he drove, and Langly brooded. Scully was already piecing together clues and getting a general idea of why Ringo would need to take such a powerful inhibitor. Was he using them to prove some wacky theory he'd become obsessed with? Richard Langly...human guinea pig. Scully huffed loudly then, but didn't say anything that would sour the current mood even more. She just hoped that, eventually, she'd be able to talk him out of what he was doing with these powerful pills.

Mel drove on, terrified that Ringo had cancer or something inoperable and was taking the pills in an attempt to stay alive.

Half an hour later they were settling into a motel. Melvin and Ringo shared a room; Mulder had his own room, Scully had hers. Frohike plunked his bag down on the bed closest to the bathroom and parked himself, gesturing in the air to Ringo, who shrugged with a sigh and claimed the second bed.

Melvin judged he'd bided his time long enough. Dispensing with any preamble, he got right to it. "Whatever it is, you can tell me and you know I'll never tell them if you don't want them to know. I know how to keep a secret. I'm just so scared right now 'cause I can see all of this is stressing you and I know you're afraid of something bad happening."

Ringo rolled his eyes and knocked his bag to the floor.

"You're my best friend. Glad we're close. I know I can tell you anything and you won't think anything bad about me; I can so easily do the same for you if you'll just let me in and tell me the truth. Trust me, Ringo."

Ringo breathed out slowly, closing his eyes as he slid his glasses off his face. It was difficult wearing glasses when he had a headache. After a minute, his eyes opened again and he untucked his hands from his armpits. "I don't wanna die, Mel."

"Are you dying?"

"No!" Langly tersely replied. "I'm as healthy as a race horse. I mean, I don't wanna not be around, ever. I wanna go on, even when that means leaving this body behind."

Frohike's voice went softer when he asked, "What do you mean?"

Ringo shook his head, feeling tears sting his eyes. Suddenly words tumbled from his lips. "I wanna have my consciousness survive on and on and on. Indefinitely. The pills are the first step. Eventually, with the second step, I'll..." He gulped and stuttered, "Become absorbed by the Web."

Speechless, Frohike just stared a good, long while at his fanciful associate. "You're not making sense, pal. What gave you the idea you could do such a thing?"

Ringo shook his head again, tucking his hands back into his armpits, hugging himself before Frohike's disbelieving eyes. "I haven't exactly been totally truthful about who I am to you and John."

"Then who are you really?" Melvin asked, his tone soothing. "Tell me about the man I've counted on all the time."

Ringo, huffing as he snorted, said, "I dunno if you'll still feel that way when I tell you."

"Willing to make a bet on that?" he tried to joke.

He couldn't help feeling a little calmer, now that he felt confident enough to bring what he'd been harboring out into the open. "I wanna bring down the powers that be from the inside. From where what good I can do can't ever be stopped! No more theories on conspiracy. I wanna bring about real change. Concrete results!"

Neither spoke for a long while contemplating what Ringo had just said together in silence. Melvin blinked dumbly for a minute then smiled. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you didn't just tell me you're dying or something. Langly, I was beside myself, so scared you were dying."

Ringo pulled back to look up at him, relief heavy in his eyes. "Nope. Not dying. Just engineering my own demise...and preservation of my intellect...for the greater good."

"Leave it to you, Ringo," was all Melvin had the guts to say.

"So you're not pissed off and tell me I'd better get with a good shrink for professional therapy, or tell me to get packing 'cause I'm too crazy to live you and John?"

Scoffing, Frohike waved Langly's misgivings off. "No, no and again, no. I think what you want to do is brave. Don't know if it's really possible to do, but if there is a way, I'll help you all I can. Who knows...might join ya, if and when living out here in the wild gets too insane. You not dying right now is what's important to me most of all, Richard. We'll always be best friends. I don't think you're mad. You'll always be a confidant. I trust you, John, Mulder and Scully more than anyone else in this screwy world. Tomorrow morning and for years to come, you're still going to be you. Whatever you decide."

Ringo, nearly drowning in relief, almost passed out. When he was more in possession of himself, he put his glasses back on and suggested they watch a little T.V. Their friendship, still just as effortless as it was when they'd woken up that morning. Ringo wouldn't need to say anything; Mel wouldn't say a word to anyone about Ringo's plans unless Ringo gave him express permission to do so. He knew it was not his place. Ringo would tell whomever, if he chose to.