Ned knows that his friends are messed up.

Peter, with his panic attacks and the way that he freaks out whenever he's inside of a building (he tries to hide it, but Ned's the one who holds Peter's hands while he's shaking and reminds him to breath when he's sobbing on a toilet seat).

Michelle, with the bottle of antidepressants that she keeps in her backpacks and the way that she can't go anywhere without a book (she tries to hold Ned back with insults and names but he's dealt with worse and he's there every time that she has to take her medication, on the clock, and she glares at him while he reminds her that if she thinks about tossing it down the drain he'll shove it down her throat).

Flash, even, with the way that he tries and fails and watches Peter with jealousy and wonder when he thinks they're not watching, the way that his voice shakes when he talks to his father on the phone and how sometimes he'll go to school with concealer on his cheek.

Honestly, they all suck at hiding secrets, and the worst part is that Ned is even worse, and somehow he's supposed to be the one taking care of them.

There's no way he can, though, absolutely no way.

(No, he's not in denial, yes, his mental health is fine.)

And yet he always ends up in the same places, hand shaking in front of Peter as he reminds him to breath, man, you've got to breath with me, breath in for four, okay? I'm going to count, one, two... and Peter shakily inhales, Ned, bringing Peter outside a building and knocking his fists into brick walls to show him it's not going to fall, I swear you'll be okay and sometimes just holding his hand as Peter makes him promise that you're okay, really, for sure?

Which is why he's here, outside, in the sun (it buuurns) with Peter instead of in his dimly lit room with a pile of video games.

"I don't care what you say, you can't just stay in there and panic to yourself." Ned informs him dutifully as he pulls Peter into a convenience store, pointedly not making note (at least not out loud) of the way that Peter's grip instantly tightens around his hand and he starts chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Why not?" Peter asks, forcing his voice to be teasing and light, but this is Peter, who can't act to save his life so it just comes out a bit more miserable and flat than anything else.

"Because I'm your friend." Ned replies flatly, and Peter at least has the decency to not argue with that. "And so it's my job to make sure that I'm there when you panic."

"Why not inside, though?" If he was asked, Peter would vehemently deny whining, but that's what he's doing right then and Ned would also swear that to the ends of the earth.

"Snacks. And Vitamin D." Ned politely doesn't add, and because Aunt May is going to turn into a nervous wreck if she hears you freaking out, then you'll be a nervous wreck and she'll get worried and you'll get worried and guilty and self deprecating like the idiot you are.

"Ned..."

"Snacks, man." Ned picks up a bag of chips and waves it in Peter's face. "We get some exercise that isn't torture inducing or duty compelled, we get Vitamin D, and we can get diabetes inducing, heart attack snacks for our movie marathon tomorrow night."

Peter's face freezes, and Ned mentally sighs, he forgot, before he smiles shakily at Ned. "Right. Movie marathon."

Ned kindly doesn't remark on the fact that Peter sounds as though he just remembered it, and instead squeezes Peter's hand to let him know that it's okay without being too weird and saying it out loud like a sap. "So, I know that we were talking about the classics, like Star Wars and Marry Poppins, so I was thinking maybe we could watch Back to the Future as well, and then we could squeeze it in while we work on our LEGO sets or something and..."

He sort of points at snacks as they walk along but doesn't pick up anything yet, thinking a bit about the price and stuff.

Then he realizes that Peter's stopped walking, so he stops talking and turns around and says quietly, "There's a bench outside, do you think you can make it there?"

And Peter nods, shaky and small, dipping his head down and Ned honestly doubts that they could make it outside but he doesn't say that out loud, just nods and tightens his grip on Peter's arm and gently puts the basket back down as he leads Peter out, fast enough that they can probably get there before Peter's legs give out be slow enough that Peter doesn't get too panicked.

(As though he isn't already, Ned thinks, taking in the trickle of sweat tracing Peter's cheek and the way that his forehead creases ever so slightly.)

"Talk to me," Ned says, because Peter likes to talk and he hasn't been talking as much lately which is bad because Ned has read up on PTSD and stuff and he knows that talking helps (sometimes it's not needed, shouldn't be done, but just not talking is bad and he needs to keep Peter grounded).

"About what?" Peter would usually quip, but this time it comes out more honestly just sad and confused and worn out like faded denim.

"About anything. Tell me about how you're coping. How you're not. How we're going to help you with your PTSD. Your thoughts on seeing the school counselor. What flavor of chips you want. Anything, man, just for a few seconds."

Peter breaths, shallow and quick and panicked, and then he whispers, "I'm coping," as though he actually expects Ned to buy that.

"No, you're not," Ned replies, but they're already at the bench so he just sits Peter down and lets him hang his head in his hands and press his elbows to his knees and move one hand to cling onto Ned's while the other supports his head. "Breath, Peter."

Peter breaths, but it's not the right kind of breathing, it's barely there, a blip on the radar, quick and panicked and unsure and Ned knows it's not useful at all, but he seriously hates Liz's dad for doing this to his friend.

"Okay, we're going to count, okay?" Ned asks, and he doesn't really wait for an answer, but Peter gives this short, jerky nod that looks more like a spasm than anything intentional, so he just plows straight ahead. "In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two, three, four..."

And they just sit there for a timeless moment, where it feels like forever but barely a second all at the same time, with Ned counting and Peter breathing and them holding onto each other's hands as Peter shakes and tries not to cry and Ned pretends he understands what Peter's going through but knows he never could.

Peter's pretty messed up.

So it's good, Ned thinks as they go home and he watches May kiss Peter on the cheek as Peter leans into her touch, that he has people looking out for him.