Ron really didn't want to be here. He was pretty certain he'd told Dean that in his owl, but maybe he hadn't. Maybe his rudeness hadn't made it clear enough. It's not like he didn't like Dean, because he did, but right now he didn't want to deal with anyone, even if Dean did have more sense than most of them. So they wouldn't run into anyone they knew here, that was all well and good, but that still didn't mean he wouldn't have to sit and listen to Dean talk about how Ron was being an idiot or he was reacting irrationally. Truly he didn't know what Dean wanted to say to him, or what he thought he could say that was going to be any different than anything anyone else said.
He pushed his way in through the pub doors and looked for Dean. When he spotted the man, he headed for him, hands digging deep into the pockets of his jeans. He slid into the seat across from Dean and said simply, "Alright, I'm here," like that was a feat Dean should be proud of him for, but in all honesty, he probably should because Ron had considered canceling at least a dozen times.