Agent Coulson's funeral was military splendor at its finest; something Tony didn't feel suited the soft spoken, easy going man. But he stood more or less at attention throughout the whole thing and only twice got on his phone during the service. He didn't have much to say as he joined the masses filing past the flag draped coffin, and his usual humor felt too irreverent even for him.
Instead of cracking jokes or throwing barbs, he took his eyes off the legs of some nameless agent, and watched silently as Captain America, his father's project and friend, unceremoniously placed those vintage, blood stained trading cards gently into the coffin.
So he'd signed them after all.
Steve's grave eyes snapped up to meet his and an almost guilty look flooded his face before he lifted his chin in defiance and looked away. Tony had no comment. This wasn't about him and frankly, he didn't care. But something in him wished that he had a sort of parting gift for the agent that had given them a cause worth fighting for.