[He laughs at that. Papyrus probably doesn't mean it as a joke, but it's still funny.]
[But Papyrus looks...uncomfortable about something. Sans tries to follow his eyelights. What is he looking at? Ah...the handplate. Of course. It's just a bad reminder. Sans looks appropriately contrite and stuffs that hand in his pocket.]
sorry. i know it's not nice to look at. you have one too, don't you? i know it wasn't real for me but [He pauses, fidgeting with the pen as he searches for the right words. He has to get this right, has to make Papyrus trust him.] i still have the memories. so if you ever need someone to talk to about it...? but no pressure. i'm just saying i'll understand.
[Better than the Real Sans ever will, but he can't write that. In fact...]
i wanted to apologize for the stuff i wrote on the other sans's mirror that time a few months back. i was just really upset. i wasn't thinking clearly.
but i'm really glad you're doing okay, bro. oh, is it okay if i call you bro? i don't want to be weird. i know i'm not
[He pauses again so he can look unsure and nervous, full of self-doubt. Like a proper Sans. Then he completes the sentence and casts his gaze downward, as if cowed.]
no subject
[But Papyrus looks...uncomfortable about something. Sans tries to follow his eyelights. What is he looking at? Ah...the handplate. Of course. It's just a bad reminder. Sans looks appropriately contrite and stuffs that hand in his pocket.]
sorry. i know it's not nice to look at. you have one too, don't you? i know it wasn't real for me but [He pauses, fidgeting with the pen as he searches for the right words. He has to get this right, has to make Papyrus trust him.] i still have the memories. so if you ever need someone to talk to about it...? but no pressure. i'm just saying i'll understand.
[Better than the Real Sans ever will, but he can't write that. In fact...]
i wanted to apologize for the stuff i wrote on the other sans's mirror that time a few months back. i was just really upset. i wasn't thinking clearly.
but i'm really glad you're doing okay, bro. oh, is it okay if i call you bro? i don't want to be weird. i know i'm not
[He pauses again so he can look unsure and nervous, full of self-doubt. Like a proper Sans. Then he completes the sentence and casts his gaze downward, as if cowed.]
technically your real brother.