"George," Trish said softly, looking up at him. She pulled them both to a stop and guided him to look at her. "Do you think you're less of a person because you're scared? Because death touched you and it hurt?" Her expression turned to one of empathy, of sadness for him.
"I've had years. Still, when I see him again I'll probably cry with joy that I get to have him in my life again. I've had years to be able to put it all behind me." Her hand found it's way up to his cheek, her fingers tracing along his skin gently.
"You're a good man. It's okay to be a little broken sometimes. Just please remember that I'm here if you need help, okay?" She smiled to him - an expression that was meant to be a little encouraging. "Also, remember that you're both here, and to hell with everything else."