Your stomach was killing you.

It began as a slight discomfort at the beginning of the day. You took some Aspirin and hoped for the best during training, but as soon as warmups started, it flared. You became sluggish, barely managing through the nearly painful sensations.

"Everythin' alright 'ere, soldier?" Graves inquires as he observes you lying on the floor, grunting to yourself, your arm slung over your stomach. His eyebrow is raised curiously at you, his hand on his hip.