Frisk giggled and snorted at Sans' joke. 

She thanked Papyrus for taking her plate, then stood. She stretched and went to straighten out her shirt, pausing when her fingers found the hem of Sans' jacket. It was so comfortable, fit so naturally on her frame, that she had completely forgotten that she was wearing it. The events of the previous night came flooding back, leaving her unable to stand there with a blank stare on her face.

The nightmare had felt so real. They always did, as they should. They weren't mere illusions, or over exaggerated fears. They were memories of the past, forever burned into her skull. No matter what timeline she was in, how good she behaved, she would never be able to forget. 

It was for the best, really. Those nightmares were a harsh reminder of her sins, a desperate plea from her conscience to be a true pacifist. They were also one of her few punishments. Karma was going to smack her no matter how many times she reset. And Frisk knew she deserved any and all consequences she was given. To her, she wasn't given enough.

Why was Sans trying to pretend that nothing had ever happened? Why was he okay with her living with him and Papyrus? Dammit, why didn't he hate her! As appreciative as Frisk was for Sans' forgiveness - if one could even call it that - she knew it wasn't right. After all she did, after all the damage she caused. Hell, if she concentrated she was sure she could still feel Papyrus' dust between her fingers. It disgusted her. Didn't she disgust Sans, too?

Frisk looked up to the second floor, eyeing the part of Sans' door that she could see from where she stood. Deep down, she knew she'd have to talk to Sans about all of this. She had to talk to him about a lot of things. But she was too afraid of what would become of such talks.

Sighing, Frisk drew her arms around herself in a light hug, pressing the jacket closer to her. She buried her face in the fabric, ignoring how the zipper poked at her. After a moment of standing there, finding comfort in Sans' jacket, Frisk straightened up and headed for the stairs. 

Her clothes were kept in a side closet at the end of the hall. She kept the different stacks as neat as she could, keeping them distinguished between what was dirty and what was still clean. The monsters around Snowdin, as well as Toriel, were all kind enough to lend her clothes and give her whatever fell from the surface. Toriel even knitted her sweaters and scarves with her signature blue and purple stripes. That was the easiest way to recognize Frisk, afterall. Just look for the blue and purple stripes. 

While Papyrus was busy in the kitchen, Frisk quickly ducked into his room to change. It was bothersome not having her own room, but they all made due and worked things out fairly well. She reluctantly switched Sans' jacket for one of her sweaters.

With jacket in hand, Frisk made her way to the bathroom. With the very same comfort one would expect between old roommates, she headed inside the open door and reached around Sans to grab her hair brush. "You need to be more careful with your jacket, Sans," she said with a grin. "I almost stole it for the whole day, again." 

While smoothing out the tangles in her hair, Frisk offered the hoodie to its owner.