Cricket's coat is perfectly modern, but he has a tendency to choose trousers appropriate to his time period, and he's basically stuck with shoes the style he always wore, because that the only thing the braces will fit in. He has some ice treads strapped onto them, which is incongruous because the rubber straps that fit them are neon orange, against the battered brown leather of his shoes, but it's a good thing he has them or he'd have tasted ice several times over on the way here.

Now, rushing back is about the last thing his legs want to do, but the rest of him is dead determined, and he nods to Steve. "Yessir. I ain't much of a runner, sir, but I'll do what I can--i-if you need to go on ahead of me I don't mind."

Same offer he made to Caspar on Hallowe'en, but this is a different situation. There are a lot of things that could happen to him between the Plaza and Harley's place.

Regardless, he's relieved already. Maybe the man he shot can be saved and maybe he can't, but at least no one can say he didn't try.

He pivots carefully and starts to head right back the way he came, in his own tracks. Steve will get to see just how uneven his gait is firsthand, now. Worse than usual, because he's pushed himself already today and how he hurts, but he's going to go as fast as he can: what would be a brisk walking pace to most people.