Fred took Trish saying his name as a request, confirmation that he would need to do what he'd suspected he would. He steeled himself, ready to punch his twin in the chin out of love just as George had done for him, when that no longer became necessary. His eyes widened and he exclaimed "Trish!", sounding quite impressed.
Unfortunately, her aim wasn't as true as his would have been and George vomited before passing out.
"That'll work," he admitted with a shrug and crouched down next to his twin, only to have to turn away for a moment, because as much experience as the twins had with vomit, George didn't usually aim for the asparagus before their experiments. "Fuck, that's rank."
Because he's a good brother, Fred picked his twin up off the ground under the knees and shoulders with a great deal of effort and carried him back to the house.