Getting out and answering the bombardment of questions for one of the new arrivals was something that Sam thought might do him some good. Nowadays, he spent most of his time buried nose deep in dusty old textbooks searching for answers that he knew, deep down, would never turn up via old fashioned research sessions. What weakened Lucifer? What slowed him down? Hell, what made the Devil even the slightest bit itchy? It was a maddening process, one that left Sam feeling more and more frustrated with each passing day. Getting out was healthy. Fresh air, a new face, something to drink. Being social - and even helpful! - would hopefully eliminate the overwhelming feeling of dread that had taken to clouding his mind as of late. Even though a very huge part of himself was itching to get back at it, Sam knew that he needed this. Getting away was the only thing that was going to keep him from snapping at this point, so Sam decisively shoved the stack of research on his desk aside (for a little while, a niggling voice at the back of his head insisted), tossed a jacket over his shoulders, and drove the familiar route out to the Roadhouse.
Business was steady when he stepped inside. Lots of locals, blended with a familiar sprinkle of the displaced. Sam greeted a few people in passing with a small smile and friendly enough hello, but he didn't linger in one place long enough to strike up much of a conversation. Instead, he focused up on finding Bo. Being something of a giant had it's advantages. The crowd was intimidating, but nothing he couldn't see over. When he spotted the woman in the leather jacket sitting on her own and clearly waiting for company, Sam immediately pushed forward.
This wasn't the first time that he'd volunteered to fill someone in on what was going on before. Considering the circumstances and his place in what was happening to the people falling through the Seal, Sam felt thoroughly obligated to do so. People like Bo, who had no control over what was going on and had suddenly turned around to find their lives being ripped away from them, genuinely deserved to know the truth. Who better to tell it to them than one of the few people who had been involved in it all from the very beginning?
"Hi," Sam started, approaching the woman curiously. "I mean - uh. Bo, right? You're Bo?"