He can understand why Charlie's helping him -- they help each other, that's what they do, that's what they've always done. Charlie's talking helps a little, mostly because he knows why Charlie's doing it, and it's strangely comforting. What he doesn't understand is why Ned is helping so much. While he didn't necessarily expect Ned to leave him to die in the woods (Ned's a nice guy, after all) he's not sure he expected Ned to stick around while he was getting stitched up, nor to help find a way to get him home.

The cynical part of his brain wonders what's in it for Ned, somehow believing that nobody would be so helpful and solicitous unless there was an ulterior motive, but nothing immediately occurs to him. It makes him take pause for a moment, completely ignoring the pain to focus on the fact that Ned might be helping him simply because he wants to. Does this make them friends?

His contemplation is broken by a stab of pain in his ribs as he's involuntarily jostled, and he can't help the sharp intake of breath as he's finally set into the chair. He's trying not to be dramatic about this whole thing, trying not to let on to too much pain, because he doesn't want to worry either of them. He just wants to get back to the house, just wants to sleep, wants to forget the pain and the embarrassment for now.