Russ shrugged his shoulders and ducked his head, acutely uncomfortable with thanks of any kind that he tried to create as much distance between actions that would require it and those that didn't. He thought of Sam, of how much she hated it, and he thought maybe saying thank you must have taken a weight out of a man who was holding onto a blanket like it was the last piece of himself he had left. He turned his back briefly without anything said, for as long as it took for Louis to deal with the clean towel and the dirty blanket and to do whatever it took to arrange himself in the passenger side. The seat was tacky with tape, and it was grubby, but the towel was big, and although it was worn, it was substantial enough.
Russ wrapped a hand around the side of the open door (the engine was still warmly ticking over, a rough, gravelly purr) and heaved himself up into the driver's side without a spare word. The music was still running, the familiar zither of AC/DC, loud and normal in an alley that was neither. He reached over and flicked the knob of the radio between two fingers and the music became thin and tinny but not entirely quieted. The truck was warm, and there was music, and the cab light was on. Russ figured if anyone appeared who looked like they'd taken to writing in someone else's blood on their chest, he'd just hit them with the truck and keep moving.
"There's no belt," he said shortly. There wasn't, the seatbelt end was frayed, and finished, and not a man among those at the shop much bothered. He looked at the patrician lines of Sam's-brother's face and wondered if maybe he wore seatbelts in other people's vehicles. Except the truck belonged to the shop and the shop belonged to the Donovans, and maybe it didn't fucking matter when the man was this fucked up.
He pulled the truck into gear, and away from the curb and it was only when they were eating up distance between the Dove and the phone booth and the alley that he craned his head and looked briefly at Louis. "You want to stop for clothes before I take you to Sam?" It wasn't much of a question, that last. Russ was going to deposit Louis with his sister, whether Louis much wanted it or not, but he could do it when the man wasn't fucking naked.