It's not ten minutes. Ten minutes turns into a solid hour, which turns into two and by the half-hour mark of the third is when he finally wakes up. He doesn't jolt out of bed, either, which is odd when Mike has a lot on his mind.

He had dreamed. Mike dreams a lot of things, but none of them particularly pleasant, especially not when he'd killed a man a day prior. For some reason, he finds himself dreaming not of the blood or the body, but of Billy and him surfing. Mike didn't even like to surf but it was still oddly calming. The rest of the Graceland gang was there except Briggs, and no one could remember why.

Mike has somehow slung his leg over the other, oddly intimate, and was facing Billy as his blue eyes open, groggy and weary.

His headache is gone, thought. And that's when he lifts his head up and shifts his weight, trying to figure out what time it is.