Cricket takes a couple moments to get his feet under him, and he's keen enough to gather from Steve's body language that in spite of all his superhuman strength and stamina he's shaken, too. Actually, he looks like he may be a little more shaken than Cricket, even, although Cricket is a poor judge of his own psychological limits.

He stands slowly, testing his weight on sore legs, and purses his lips, because he can just tell from the feel that the braces are rubbing blisters at his knees, and that's not great. Between that and the pain, he's going to have to rest his legs for a few hours as soon as he can, but he promised hot drinks and he wants to follow through. The only trouble with that being things are rationed right now, and whatever odds and ends were left in Harley's kitchen are too far away for him to fetch.

So he just stands where he is, looking uncertain, wanting to help and in a poor position to do so.

"I'm a'ight," he assures Azwel with a stubborn little nod. "Just the magic-y light or whatever you did made me feel kinda queasy. Is that enough, the chocolate? I can go ask for rations if y'want me to."