Being dead should be quieter, Owen thought. Instead, Gwen was bellowing at them: "Tosh, help Martha. Ianto, bring the SUV around--she needs a hospital."
Ianto headed for the garage at a brisk jog. Tosh made her way over to Martha, trying not to look at Jack's body. She and Gwen helped the aged woman to her feet. "He never told me," Martha breathed, "how hard it is, being old."
Tosh got Martha's arm draped across her shoulders. "Come on, now," she said gently, starting slowly out of the autopsy bay. "We'll take the lift."
Gwen positioned herself by Jack's feet. "That leaves us Jack," she told Owen. "You take that end; I'll take this."
Somehow, it didn't matter that it was temporary, or that Owen did autopsies on a regular basis: Hauling Jack's carcass around while he wasn't in it was gruesome. "It's a body," he said stupidly.
"Got practice belting corpses into cars, lately," Gwen pointed out, lifting Jack's feet and looking pointedly at Owen. "Come on; we'll need him."
He shook his head even as he moved to stand by Jack's head and shoulders. "Gwen--he's dead."
Gwen glared. "So're you, and we're not leaving you behind."