Flanders, forgive me if I overstep myself, I'll be happy to edit accordingly, I just don't see how Nathan could react in time or even know this is coming, especially given the circumstances.
Jack sat bolt upright as Dogmeat's agony echoed through the now horrified stadium. He heard Ki's plaintive cry somewhere behind him, joining the wounded man's below, and he knew exactly what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, his glow flared to life, and he was off.
The people who saw Jack in the next few seconds weren't even truly sure they saw him at all, he moved so quickly. He almost seemed to flicker in and out of reality as he blinked from his seat, down the stairs, through the hall, and into the waiting area just outside the arena. He barely paused to breath between blinks, and by the third, he was covered in sweat. The fourth and fifth set a fire in his lungs, but by then it was almost over. Beating the medic team and referees out of the door just as it opened, he screamed across the slowly collapsing terrain, materializing like an avenging angel in mid-air right before Nobody. His flying spin kick caught the boy right across the temple as the crowd gasped in shock for the second time. The force of the blow sent him careening backward rolling pell-mell over the ground.
Jack landed in a dramatic, purposefully noble guard stance, one hand held blade like out before him, the other cupped by his solar plexus. "You're not laying another hand on Gray Saggio, you bastard!" he boomed, as loud as he could muster, his hair and clothes still tousled from his surging entrance. "You'll have to get through me first!" His face a perfect mask of fury, he stood, drenched in sweat and the cheers of a captive, hopeful audience, keeping his composure and doing everything he could to hide how heavily those blinks had drained him. This was beyond perfect. Never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for something better than this, unless Murk had somehow done this instead...
In the stands, Ki was frantically trying to get through the crowd down to the arena floor, her face awash in tears. No, no, come on, please be okay, please be okay, please be okay..."Move! Please! Let me through, I need to get to him!" Suddenly a large man and his girlfriend got in front of her, and in a voice surprisingly like a drill sergeants, he bellowed for people to make way. The couple then led her down the stairs, making sure she made better time than she would have alone.
Marlon stood numbly, at a total loss of what to say to Miss Roux, or what, in fact, to do at all. What in hellfire....the only thing that came to mind was to lay one hand on the woman's delicate shoulder, as a paltry show of support.