"Let's go see Skye," Coulson suggested.
Things had already been said to this extent, so all that remained was for them to part ways. There might still be opportunities to cooperate in the future, but Evenson could no longer be treated as one of their own. Letting him see Skye now could count as a farewell.
The three silently arrived outside Skye's room. Before the door had even opened, a sour smell made Evenson frown. When Coulson opened it, Evenson nearly broke down on the spot.
A rotten stench rushed at him as though seeking vengeance—not that kind of rotten, but a blend of sour, rancid, and every other unpleasant odor imaginable. It smelled like the area beside a food relief distribution point in a slum. Well... don't ask why Evenson could identify that smell.
"Wow, this is practically burning my eyes." Evenson silently cast Endless Breathing on himself, only to witness an even more eye-searing sight.
Inside this high-end, luxurious S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft, Skye's room seemed to belong to another dimension. It was as if a presidential suite had been connected to a slum, separated by nothing more than a single door.
Used tissues covered the floor. Several empty and half-empty liquor bottles, their caps off, lay scattered everywhere. Boxes from finished instant meals still gave off the smell of spoiled food. As for Skye herself, who knew how many days it had been since she last bathed? Her hair had clumped together, and she seemed to have gone sour all over. Dressed in simple clothes, she lay sprawled across a bed littered with potato chip crumbs, snoring rhythmically.
"This is... Skye?" Evenson stared at the unidentified object on the bed and asked in disbelief.
"Mm." Coulson nodded sadly.
"Actually, Coulson, just tell me the truth..." Evenson's brows twisted together