Owen looked up at them, sighing. He too had nightmares, visions that were similar to this. Every time he had them, he woke up shaking and in a cold sweat. Someone had shot him, causing him to suffer and die. And he hated that now his dream was actually coming true. Maybe he was getting a bit psychic or some such shit.
Maybe not.
"Ok, we'll do it. Just calm down, ok? The guy is her husband," he muttered, motioning to Tosh. "She just lost her fuckin' husband. We'll do what you say, ok, but have a little fuckin' decency..." He sighed and, slowly, knelt down onto the ground on his knees. He was trying to formulate a plan as he did so. But, unfortunately, there were too many female variables and he didn't want anyone hurt.