"She is, she's so smart. She's so mean about it, too, she'll look you deadass in the eye in front of other people when she gives you your ranking. One time - one time Steve and I drove out to visit, and at the end of lunch, she gave me a 97, but he got a six. Pepper was mortified and you had to excuse yourself from the room, you were just howling with laughter. He didn't stop complaining the entire way home." It had been one of their better visits, nothing overshadowed with tension and regret, missed chances and longing. Just a nice day between old friends, settled into a tenuous peace and didn't get together that often.
There were a few more she could have showed him, in the text chain and from her own camera roll, at least one that Tony had sent to both herself and Rhodey, when Morgan had been about six hours old so that they could let the rest of the group know he'd arrived healthy and happy. The phone's battery icon had been down to a narrow little red sliver for awhile now, though, and when she went to swipe for the next, the screen gave a little frowning-face icon, faded to silver, then black.
She clutched her hand around it all the more tightly. There were things on here as precious to her as these shots had been to Tony, but - he'd promised her, he had, he'd said that charging wasn't going to be a problem. It wasn't the sort of thing he would have lied about, but a shudder ran through her body, the kind that would have preempted tears if she hadn't already decided she wouldn't be doing that now, not over this, not when he was falling to pieces against her. "Sorry," she whispered, and she wasn't sure if it was for the phone or the rest of it. "I'm sorry, Tony."