For a moment, Peter reminds Sans so much of Papyrus it's dizzying. The assurance in what he believes is right, the smiling confidence, the determination to protect his family. Young and with great faith placed in what he believes is right.

A kid who was kicked around all his life, isolated, made to feel small while refusing to give in. They were qualities Sans valued above all else. They were strong and unattainable and cool in a way Sans had long since given up for himself. He could never hope to reach such heights. The closest he got was being near people like his brother, like Peter, leaching off their goodness like a particularly appreciative parasite.

And now look. He can't claim responsibility, no, but he was another justification. Another person Peter could hold up as someone who knew when to do the right thing.

"That same family I did it for had to watch me die a week later." Sans speaks up, finally, unable to look at Peter's misguided expression much longer. "One of the people you wanted to protect is dead. I met with your sister while you were in the sickbay, n' she was terrified about how this is all going to escalate. Terrified for you.

"It's called karma, kid, and thinking you're above it is one hell of a way to get wrecked."