He can't quite help his flinch when Charlie kicks at the chair, but one benefit of having come face to face with an irate saber-toothed tiger shortly before is that Charlie, in all of his rage, can hardly make him any more panicky than he already is. That's why he doesn't just stand aside and let Charlie barge in. He gets himself between the stomping man and the door, barring his passage, speaking quickly.

"Look I understand you want to see him and you're really worried but Bruce needs peace and quiet, okay, and- and so does Meyer. You g-going in there like this is gonna get him all worked up and that could be seriously bad for him in the state he's in, okay? So if you're g-gonna go in there I'm gonna need you to c-calm down a little, first."

The words are a quick, nervous prattle, but he doesn't step out of the way, jaw clenching with determination. Like hell he's going to let Charlie jeopardize Meyer's health for his tantrum. Ned knows he looks a wreck, shaking and exhausted and covered in blood, but he tries to get across with his expression how serious he is about this.

Perhaps it's not quite as necessary as it seems to Ned just now - perhaps it's some subconscious lingering overprotectiveness, from the fight with the tiger. His brain can't help but register Charlie as dangerous, as a threat, and he can't help but want to get in between that and his friend when he's in such a defenseless state.