Steve is legitimately the worst person to ask about the arc reactor. He doesn't know its name, doesn't know how it works and doesn't even know if it does work, since he doesn't know what its exact purpose is. He assumes it works because it's part of Tony's chest and he once watched Tony fix an engine for twenty minutes as it was falling out of the sky. It's some sort of power source. And it dies when Tony does.

"Right now? It'd be impossible."

Steve can't even pull a lever and Tony's got the capability to become an expert on highly advanced science over the course of a night. And apparently has multiple degrees in subjects, one of which didn't even exist in Steve's time. So yes, in their current states, they're about as useful towards this as a cardboard box filled with puppies.

He starts to gather all the rest of the supplies so he can put them away, tucks the jar of honey and some bandages into a table in this room so he has easy access to them later. If he were any less debilitated, his eyes would be cold and sharp as steel. But right now he just looks exhausted, the kind of tired he should never be. He's stuck in a fog treading through waist-deep mud, and it hurts him to know he could do better. He should do better.