"Greg?" Weasel might be lacking hope, but he still has concern in full. That reaction is unexpected, and he backs away from the light himself as if it might do something to him also. Keeping it at a distance, he shifts around to get to his bandmate's side, tilting his head to get a better look at his face.

"Are you alright?" This is probably the least emo he's sounded since this whole thing started. The others mean the world to him.