Nicole snaps out of her flashforward-induced reverie and -- surprise! -- she's dry and she's at the hospital. She tells the patient Olivia, "I'm guessing Mark told you what I saw?" He did. Because when it comes to keeping confidences, it's only his own flashforward where Mark's not spilling the whole can of beans. Olivia warmly adds that she and Mark worry about Nicole, and Nicole witlessly beams, "You don't have to be. I'm going to be fine. The future can change. It's all over the news." Before Olivia and Nicole can convene the symposium on free will versus predestination, they're distracted by a nurse coming by to announce a floral arrangement for the new mother of quintuplets. She needs Nicole's help with it, presumably because it takes two people to shake out all the desperate TLC programmers hiding in the gladioli. As Nicole walks off, she tells Olivia, "We can change what we saw, just before the blackout. Everything's back to being up to us again." You know, as comforting to some people as the idea of being in charge of one's own future must be, I really wish we would have also seen the converse: people who are absolutely crushed by the idea of their golden future no longer being certain.

At Aaron's house, Tracy's come over to tell her father what happened over in Afghanistan: She's been missing for two years because of the attack on her Humvee -- an attack meant for her personally. A few weeks prior to the attack, she had seen something she shouldn't have. Private-security contracting firm "Jericho PMC" -- mission statement: "Blackwater? Never heard of 'em." -- massacred an Afghani village full of women and children, and Tracy happened to observe it while she was doing long-range recon in the area. Tracy reported it to her superior officer, and a week later, her supervisor sent her on the mission where she was assumed to have met her end. The people who blew her up? Jericho. Tracy reasons that because of Jericho PMC's status as a military contractor, the Army's in collusion to hush this up, so she can't exactly trust the armed forces to have her back. The Tracy-survives-the-blast-and-discovers-her-leg-missing is all very harrowing, but I couldn't really get into it because I kept thinking, "Lady, you spent a lot of time rolling around on the ground and screaming after you came to. Exactly how fearsome and far-reaching can these mercs be if they didn't even have the brains to check out what all the noise downwind from the flambeed Humvee was?" I ask you, doesn't anyone teach murder-happy mercenaries to confirm their kills anymore?