Neal was bored. No surprises there, considering he was on a stakeout with Peter, but still.

He was bored.

Folding various origami objects lost its entertainment after a while, especially when one was running on very little sleep.

Actually, when Neal really thought bout it (Why is that getting harder to do, anyway?) he hadn't had a really good night's sleep in weeks, and the past few days had just been… To put it simply, he hadn't gotten more than two hours of sleep a night in over a week. All he wanted to do right then was collapse into his own bed and sleep for the rest of the weekend.

Unfortunately, the stakeout was preventing that. Neal knew his eyes were drooping, and he was shaking because of his low blood sugar (because when Neal couldn't sleep, as a general rule he couldn't eat much either, which made for miserable bouts of insomnia.), and Peter was getting suspicious. The problem was, at this point, Neal was too tired to care about hiding symptoms.

Peter tapped him lightly on the shoulder, rousing the younger man from his sleepy haze. "It's three am, Neal." He said, offering a hand. "We can go."

Neal gratefully took the hand, allowing Peter to help him up and out of the van. For once, Neal didn't protest or try and give any illusion of being "fine", which probably only worried Peter more.

"Can you let go?" Neal asked, flashing his conman grin to the best of his ability. "I can walk." Peter, albeit reluctantly, let go, keeping close behind as his partner walked to the Taurus.

There were two things Neal saw before he blacked out: one, being Peter's concerned face, and two, the oddly pumpkin shaped lantern hanging behind him.