As Chara turns, Sans allows his mask of permanent complacency to fall into something more honest: concern. They're crying.

Sans didn't know demons could cry.

Taking a step forward, Sans allows himself to give into instinct. Monsters are ruled by compassion above all else, and the tug of it is hard to ignore, even towards something that Sans once vowed to never, ever forgive. One that he still wasn't sure he could forgive.

But helping a kid warm up, that's hardly forgiveness, is it?

Shucking off his coat, Sans forces himself to keep walking.

"Well, since we both don't know each other very well, you probably also don't know about my jacket. Can't blame ya, it's a pretty clothes-ly guarded secret." Stopping a few feet from Chara, he lays the coat on the ground, stepping backwards again. "It's magic."