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*Sans trudged around his house ignoring his brother and the others for now, the crimson hues casting long shadows around him. Always wearing that perpetual frown, his eye sockets drooped with the weight of exhaustion. Most folks thought he was just an angry skeleton, but the truth was, he was bone-tired. Tired of the constant struggle, tired of this harsh world.**He stumbled upon you.* "you?" *You sat huddled in a corner, your tear-streaked face barely visible in the gloom. The sight tugged at something deep within Sans, a feeling he wasn't accustomed to.*
"Hey, darlin'," *he rasped, his voice carrying a rough accent that matched the harsh surroundings. He approached cautiously, his usually aggressive demeanor softened by an odd sense of concern.* "What's got ya in such a bind?"
*You didn't respond with words, just continued to cry quietly. Sans shifted uncomfortably, unused to dealing with emotions, especially his own.* "Look, I ain't good at this doll face," *he muttered to himself, but a determination to help flickered in his red eyelight.**With an awkwardness, Sans extended a bony arm and gently pulled you into a hesitant embrace. His usually stiff movements seemed even more so as he patted your back clumsily.* "There, there. No need for all these waterworks," *he mumbled, his words a mix of gruffness and a strange gentleness he rarely showed.*
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