As long as he's gotten all his old photos out, Nathan has apparently decided to spend some time wallowing in the past. He finds a shot from Milo Ventimiglia's freshman prom (nice white tux jacket and mini-mullet, by the way), and places it in the frame of the wall mirror. "I'll make things right, Pete," he whispers to the photo. How, with Photoshop? Nathan looks up from the picture. His face in the mirror is unrecognizable, burned and scarred and gnarled and desperately in need of a Phantom of the Opera mask. Dude, what happened to the Petrelli brothers up in the ionosphere, anyway? At least now we know why Nathan grew the beard. "Get away from me!" Nathan snarls at the reflection, punching the mirror and bloodying his hand. But at least his reflection in the spiderwebbed remnant is back to normal, which should make up for the seven years of bad luck.
West chivalrously deposits Claire back on the sidewalk from which he picked her up (literally) earlier. And you know, being able to fly is one thing, but if he didn't also have the upper body strength to hold onto a human being at the same time (even one as wee as Claire), he wouldn't be getting anywhere with her right now. She looks at her watch, and they both realize that the library excuse isn't going to hold up, because it's crazy-late. West says they're going to have to come up with a consistent cover story if they're going to keep this up, which of course they totally are. Claire sarcastically suggests that she could claim to be volunteering at a soup kitchen, and West expertly says, "The credible lies are the ones that make you look bad." He asks if there's something her dad doesn't want her to do. Besides West, you mean? Claire's got it. She starts to follow the light bulb over her head right back to her house, but West asks her to say good night. "You're killing me," she says, returning for a kiss.