Eliot Spencer just stood there stunned, processing what had just happened. A panicked Hardison punched him square in the jaw just moments ago, and while it didn't exactly hurt, the force behind it and the look in Hardison's eyes caught him off guard. The man was now nowhere in sight after scurrying off in the direction of the bathrooms. He knew he had to react to the situation, but decided to take a minute and process the events leading up to him being on the receiving end of a clearly instinctive attack.
It was after hours in the bar and Hardison and Eliot were going over some new menu items. As usual, Hardison suggested absolute nonsense for the menu, so Eliot was just cooking items that he knew would go with the rest of the menu and having him taste them. After taking a bite of a crab cake sandwich and sipping on the paired beer, something caught Hardison's eye and he froze. After realizing that the man wasn't simply staring into space as he sometimes did, Eliot gave in and followed Hardison's line of sight. What had him so entranced? A single black velvet petunia. Eliot went to tell Hardison to snap out of it when he noticed that he wasn't breathing. At all. If an unknowing patron had walked into the bar at that moment, there is no doubt that they would have sworn up and down that the man was a wax statue. An extremely life-like, masterfully made wax statue. At this point that a chill ran down Eliot's spine. Immediately followed by a wave of anger. Upon later reflection, he wasn't really sure why anger was his immediate reaction but the visceral emotional response itself was to the idea that the petunia could be what Eliot thought it was. The calling card for a very dangerous Baltimore drug dealer that a friend had told him about once. Known for making people disappear, getting away with killing more than one law enforcement agent and supposedly having connections all around the world. How the fuck was Hardison associated with him?
When Eliot attempted to ask Hardison what was going on, Hardison suddenly and violently shoved himself backwards, almost toppling over his stool in an attempt to get away as quick as possible. That was when Eliot firmly gripped Hardison's wrist and gruffly asked what was going on. At first Hardison made a futile attempt to pull away and free himself from the tight, but not bruising, hold that Eliot had on him. After realizing that nothing would come of it, that is when he resorted to turning around and punching Eliot as hard as he could in the face. However, in Hardison's defense, it only barely registered that the other man was Eliot. His main concern being the overwhelming sense of danger at hand and the rising bile that he felt in his stomach.
When the shock finally wore off, Eliot rushed to the bathrooms; only to be met with the distinctive sound of someone vomiting. Eliot honestly thought that he was going to have to force the door open, but to door easily swung open and he was able to take in the scene before him. Hardison was crouched over the toilet, gripping the sides like it might just float away if he didn't and expelling his stomach contents into the bowl. Between each upheaval, he raspily inhaled and each time he vomited, it was immediately followed by a loud sob and a stomach convulsion that shook his whole body. It was clear that Hardison was making himself sick. Not on purpose of course. The initial round of vomiting was a genuine reaction to the sudden onslaught of strong emotions, including fear no doubt, but the following rounds were a result of Hardison making himself sick by not properly breathing and likely gulping spasmodically as some people do when they cry.
"Hardison." Eliot called out, but received no sign that Hardison even recognized his presence. He tried again, more authoritatively and received the same response.
"Alec," Eliot tried this time. His voice was soft, but steady. Gentle, but firm. This time the other man seemed to shift a bit. He couldn't quite calm himself down or stop the last bit of bile leaving his throat, but at least this time Eliot's presence seemed to register. "Alec. You need to calm yourself down. If you keep going on this way, you'll only keep getting sick."
Showing some sense of understanding, Alec had finally stopped vomiting and slumped back onto the wall in silent resignation. The man still had tears rolling down his face. That's when Eliot realized that the annoying buzzing that kept going off in the background was Alec's phone. He decided to pay it very little mind because there were clearly more important things going on. However, that is when his phone began to ring. After 2 rings, he decided to take it out and hang up, but he never got the chance. The phone answered itself.