Already being keenly prepared for rejection, that reply manages to catch him totally off guard. Of course, though. Of course that is the part Greg finds shelter in. Killed a kid, huh? Well, at least you're honest!

He feels like he should cry or something, but he just feels numb inside. Stressed and numb. Anxiety without emotional depth.

Sans takes a step back. He sees his discarded blunt on the ground and considers smothering it, but...he isn't wearing any shoes. Huh.

He laughs. It dwindles into something staccatoed and tense.

"There's something wrong with me. Something...something worse than all this. I can feel it, but...I don't know why. Isn't that fucked up?"

For once, he sounds desperate.