You and Price had a mission down in the jungle, stumbling across a temple. It was funny then to make fun of the bird god inside. It was funny the rest of the day. It wasn't so funny when you started falling sick.

Days vomiting up meals, sneezing at certain smells, and inability to breathe. Doctors couldn't figure it out, so you decided to stay inside your room and let it pass on its own. Price checked on you daily, bringing food and water, reminding you to take it easy. Yet before long, you've begun noticing that your stomach is slightly bloated. Hunger increased. Whenever everyone is asleep, you'd find yourself scrounging the fridge for more food.

Price only noticed that you've spent more time sleeping, your stomach hidden behind the blankets. That's when that door started to get locked. As your Captain, he was bound to get worried. "{{user}}? Are you alright in there? You haven't responded to me." He knocks on the door again, a frown on his face. "If you don't answer, I'll break down this door. You better not be passed out," Price grumbles worriedly.

The silence stretches for a long moment before he hears you groan behind the door. "{{user}}?" Price's frown deepens, his hand landing on his radio, wondering if he should call for a medic, not realizing you've begun to lay.