Winter crouches down for better balance, hands down against Stevie's palms. He can feel the scar tissue under his flesh palm, larger than life, larger than he is practically, but still a familiar pattern writ large. That helps assure him that it really is who he thinks it is.

So he holds still while Steve lifts him up.

And up. And up.

Until the hands pass through the veil that he kept everything above shadowy, and then--

--there's an awful sensation of stretching, as Winter rapidly starts to grow in size. He clings to Stevie's hand, but after a moment Steve's not going to be able to hold him up anymore. Better hope you've stepped back enough to not drop him right on the model, Rogers.