Sans is quiet. Most of him is still under his table-fort, which is hand sticking out as Gaster takes it. A long moment passes, until the rest of him crawls out.

"Okay."

He sniffs. He wasn't crying, but he looked like he might have if he got the wrong answer. He shuffles next to Gaster's feet. He looks down at the floor for a moment, then nods slowly.

"I was making things up too. I didn't put you in the washing machine."

Toddler priorities: feeling guilty over goofy, made-up things.