Neal jerks at the restraints a little, more confused now, not less. The last thing he remembers... he was facing off with Keller in that basement. Convincing Mozzie to leave the two of them alone with a knife and a gun and a plan Neal was only half-sure would go the way he wanted it to.

"Let me go," he mumbles, irritated more than reassured. Did he screw it up? Or did Keller actually get a good shot in? The way Neal stomach burns, the way he can feel his shirt clinging wetly against his skin, seems to indicate that there's an injury there. His tone is still disoriented, but a little more forceful now. "What medical wing? What's wrong with my eyes?"