A look of panic had etched itself across Trish's face as Fred caught her glance again. It was barely a moment after Fred had taken off after George that Trish was right behind him. Where she was so concerned with covering herself before, she wasn't at that moment. She ran after the two, the hard, cold dirt under her bare feet hardly making an impact on her in the wake of George's hallucination.
"George!" She called out, coming to a halt in front of him. "Come back to the house, please?" She asked softly, winded by the run, despite how short it was. Running seemed like a skill she should have. "Please?" She asked again, her hands on his chest in attempt to physically guide him back towards the door. She didn't have the heart to tell him that he wasn't in the shop. Of course he would have been. A world and a life he no longer had whether it was here or at home. The thought of saying those words twisted her insides. She couldn't. Shouldn't... a variety of negative contractions that left her solely with asking him to turn around.