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Without conscious thought, Clint read the angles in the room, the trajectory and velocity of Jay's movements, and for just a moment it was like the world slowed down as he let his mutation calculate all the steps, leaps, and movements he'd need to complete in what order at what speed to put an end to what was going on before it could get worse. Then his brain clicked all the appropriate equations and answers into place and Clint set himself in motion. Taking one step and then a leap to clear more distance, Clint braced his arm on the kitchenette's island countertop and vaulted himself over it and the chairs on the other side that made the island into an eating area. Next he parkoured over the side chair and table, perfectly avoiding the lamp, and landed right between the couch and the coffee table. He gripped Jay's wrist where it clutched at Sam's shirt hard enough to make his fingers release without actually injuring the teen, then gripped him by the back of his neck even as he braced himself and thrust the coffee table backward so he'd have space for what came next. Clint used his grip on Jay's wrist and his neck to forcefully lift him off of Sam, avoided the young man's wings, and had him on his front on the ground with one knee pressed into his lower back. Because of all the jostling, one of the pillows had fallen to the ground before Clint's entrance, so Jay's face was twisted sideways on that and the archer made sure that, despite their flapping, the younger Guthrie wasn't doing himself any harm. "I dunno what you were yelling about, but I'm gonna tell you right now -- you don't lay hands on your brother unless you're sparring while being observed. I get your whole 'sibling' schtick. I've got two brothers. But there's that and then whatever the hell I just walked into. Do you understand?" Trying to twist out of Clint's grip was instinctual, and opposed to the clear talent and experience behind what Clint was doing. Jay's hand loosened on Sam's shirt due to Clint's grip on him. He couldn't hit at Clint to let go of him with his hands, but he had two other limbs, but it was wild, trapped animal panic at being held down by something he couldn't see more than anything else. Of a hand on his neck. How dare this man who didn't know them, knew nothing about the two of them step in and try to get in the middle of a family spat- lay his hands on him, even! He wasn't gonna be pinned down and take this, he wasn't going to take bein' kept still and captive. (His skull hitting the pavement, the glint of a gun, the anger and grief...) "Git offa me-!" But then, the hands on his wrist and neck weren't there to harm. Even the knee on his back was shy of his oil gland. This was more like someone stepping in to stop an assault than trying to get anyone hurt. Jay had the realization that maybe Sam had been telling the whole truth about Clint being one of them superhero types. And not just because of how casually he had restrained him either- and Jay'd never heard of someone stopping a fight so cleanly. But he's stepped in because he must have thought Jay would seriously hurt Sam. |
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