Sans flinches at Papyrus's earnesty, though he doesn't pull away from that hug. This feels strangely impossible to deal with, at the moment. His head is still dizzy with anxiety and confusion, and Papyrus is being honest with him in a way that feels unusual somehow, even though he can't remember enough details to know why. He feels like there's something wrong, that he's causing this to happen.

Papyrus shouldn't ever have to do this. It isn't fair. Yet, at the same time, he feels the guilt at having lied to him about so many things. How is it possible that his only family in the world doesn't know about... any of it?

How does Papyrus being honest with him make him feel even more impossibly alone?

"There are so many things I didn't tell you," he says quietly, the guilt settling like a weight on his shoulders. He covers his face with his hands. "I-I can't... how can I?"

He's half talking to himself, feeling somehow disassociated from the situation, as if it isn't actually real.