Jonesy was too busy dry heaving to respond-- all he could do was look at the alert on his phone and press the command that would let Jack have access to his quarters. The front door slid open, and a few things skittered away in the dim lighting of Jonesy's entryway, either startled by the sudden light from the main hall or beckoned elsewhere by Jonesy himself.
Either way, all that seemed to be on their wee little arachnid minds was to get the hell out of there, scuttle away as fast as their multitude of limbs would take them, and find a nice place to hunker down and hide. They were already not feeling the best; no doubt the residual after effects of what their human caretaker was feeling, and they weren't about to deal with this other human and small little beast on top of everything else.
Especially since these two creatures had long since been marked as ones to Never Be Bothered.
Jonesy, for his part, was fighting down a fresh wave of disgusted nausea, clinging to the cold porcelein of his toilet and trying to will himself back under control. He knew that wasn't going to happen-- enough of these attacks had proven that it wouldn't just go away. He was shaking, cold sweat clinging to his skin like a man with a fever, and even though there was absolutely nothing left in his guts to give, he still seized, muscles contracting hard and merciless as he tried to expel what hadn't been there in years.
That goddamn chat and those awful fucking goddamn pissants and their awful fucking jokes and was there absolutely no one in this entire goddamn country who wasn't a feculant piece of rotting scum? Implying that Jonesy would make Guidry do... for favors... for food, for-- oh hell, he was cramping up again, the phantom taste somehow still there despite his tongue being utterly raw by this point. How the hell was it that even now, years after the fact, he could still fucking taste it?
He heard footsteps, distantly, and looked to the open bathroom door, sniffling hard and spitting out the last of the bile that he had left. He'd be cramping for hours, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with that nasty little aspect anymore.
"In here," he croaked, quietly, unable to manage more than the barest hint of volume and figuring Jack would know where he was in any regard. The options were limited already and not every room in Jonesy's apartments were really made for this sort of mess.