Back at telekinesis training, Olivia is having no luck. She looks sick about it too, and when Walter comes into his office with a cup of tea, Olivia suggests he give her some Cortexiphan. He says it would do her more harm than good. "These abilities are inside you, Olivia. You simply need to harness them," he says. She says she doesn't know how, and she never has.

He quietly says that he knows what it feels like to feel unequal to the task, and it has to do with the fact that a long time ago his friend carved pieces out of his brain. Again with this! Well, he's really only referring to it obliquely, but he says that he's come to embrace those parts of his mind that are "peculiar and broken," because that's what makes his mind special.

After a long, long pause, he says he wishes she could see herself the way he sees her. "You have no idea how extraordinary you are," he says, adding that if she embraces it, there's no end to what she could do. Olivia's clearly touched, but still not convinced: "Believing doesn't make it true," she says, and he urges her to try. You can't really not try for someone who thinks you're extraordinary, so Olivia gives it another shot. So she stares into the mirror for a good thirty seconds, and the music swells, and you're thinking that she's going to get it done... but nothing. I mean, OBVIOUSLY it's going to happen, but they tricked me that time! Walter says it's OK, and suggests taking a break before they try again. Olivia nods, but then Astrid comes in with the news that Peter's missing, so that's obviously going to cut telekinesis practice short today.

And while the doomsday device is floated out to Liberty Island on a barge accompanied by a helicopter escort, Peter wanders the streets and asks a stranger about a pawn shop that Peter is sure must be nearby. The stranger, after some prodding, suggests he try Third. Peter finds it, and the guy behind the counter looks up -- possibly due to the surprise of seeing someone in the otherwise empty shop -- and then goes back to whatever work he's doing. Probably planning to cancel Customer Appreciation Day for lack of necessity. Peter wanders over to the counter to look at the coins.

He points and asks to see one of the displays, and the owner, sounding skeptical, asks if Peter's a collector. Peter says he was when he was a kid. So the owner pulls out the tray and tells Peter they're all graded and authenticated. "Price-wise, everything in here, five hundred and up," he says. Well, Peter can afford to take a cab to New York, so that's probably not a problem. Peter picks up a silver half-dollar, says it's his favourite, and always brings him luck. The store owner likely doubts this, or at the very least is a little concerned by Peter's bandaged face.