After the escape from Nightshade's realm, Greg had expected to spend the rest of the day lying low--maybe getting a good alibi, or just snatching some well-earned rest. The powers that be seemed to have other plans.

Word had already spread fast about the attack on the Sanctuary, and Greg didn't think twice before rushing to the scene. He'd been too busy over the last few days to stop by, or he would have heard--when did those vines start growing? Why would she go after a safehouse like this now?

So Greg arrives on the scene, conveniently equipped with a bottle full of weedkiller, a raised scarf to ward off the airborne effects of plants, and looking harried enough that one might mistake him for having been at this for much longer. It would not be wholly inaccurate.