There's a camaraderie Steve feels deep in his chest that he knows will feel insincere if he said as much to Cricket, looking the way the soldier does now. But the real Steve, the one with the bony elbows and hearing damage in one ear. The one with the scoliosis and the asthma and the weak heart...the Steve Rogers he's been his whole life up until recently? He wishes he could be here now.

It's a pointless twist in his chest. Impossible and even if it were utterly useless for the situation they're in now. The cold might be a bad place for Steve's memories, but before it was flirting with very real death. How many winters did he spend in hospital or laid up in their drafty apartment with every blanket and coat in the house laid over him while Bucky was so sure this would be the last time Steve was sick, riddled with fever and coughs that rattled his bones?

"It's Steve." He tells the young man. Polio, or something similar, must have gotten to him. "Are you serious about trying to save a life right now?" He's sure the kid is. He can see it in his eyes. He needs to invoke that determination to do right before he suggests something he knows would have earned him a glare and possibly a fight from the Steve he no longer can be anymore.

"It will be faster if I carry you. You know the way, and we need to hurry." He doesn't say it will be safer for Cricket this way. No coddling, no pity. Practical reasons and an urgent goal in mind.