Frisk whimpers and sniffles, scrubbing at their eyes and nose before peeking past their hands. They feel small, so very small in this strange new world they all have found themselves in, and they've been struggling so hard to stay afloat and hold on to those they love...

All they want is to rest.

For a moment Frisk opens their mouth, trying to protest, but...Sans is right. There isn't much they could have done to stop Chara if they really wanted to hurt Sans. The two of them are equally Determined, and Frisk isn't used to defending someone else. They look down, their mask slipping enough to let the bone-deep weariness and pain show before they move forward again, their arms looping around Sans's shoulders in a less desperate embrace.

"...I missed you." They don't know what else to say.