[The recognition is immediate and obvious on Sans's face, with the way his eyes widen and his smile drops entirely. He hates this human body more than ever right now. It's not that he hadn't considered, with all the strangeness of the circumstances here, the people being brought from different times and places, that the other timelines of his own world could be involved. It's not, but--he also couldn't consider that for real. Couldn't let himself hope for anyone he knew when they were all dead. Couldn't hope for his brother. But now--
His face twists out of his control again, suspicion and hope fighting with each other. He tries to pull everything back into neutral and just barely manages, but there's no denying the expression was there plenty long enough to be seen. Is this Papyrus? It has to be. But it could be a trick. He doesn't know who would trick him like that, who could. Whoever brought him here, maybe. But-- But--
Sans doesn't say anything. He just stands there. That might be an answer on its own.]
no subject
His face twists out of his control again, suspicion and hope fighting with each other. He tries to pull everything back into neutral and just barely manages, but there's no denying the expression was there plenty long enough to be seen. Is this Papyrus? It has to be. But it could be a trick. He doesn't know who would trick him like that, who could. Whoever brought him here, maybe. But-- But--
Sans doesn't say anything. He just stands there. That might be an answer on its own.]