There's nothing visible, by way of injury; the stitches up his arm are concealed by his shirt and jacket. Sweeney offers a small smile and heads inside before promptly crouching to greet everybody else. After a moment, he glances up at Will.

"You doin' ok? Any lingerin'..." He looks for the word, but shakes his head when he abandons the search in favor of 'close enough'. "...bullshit?" His fingers gesture towards his brother in illustration. "Visions, torments, injuries?" Just running down the checklist.