He followed her wordlessly out into the cold, mostly on autopilot at this point. It was almost dreamlike, surreal even. He couldn't really feel the biting nip of the chilled breeze, couldn't really hear her walking beside him. Maybe if he just closed his eyes he would wake up in his bed....

"[I]So.... That was... Another you, right? Someone from an alternate universe?[/I]"

Sans had to take a moment to focus on the question, almost sure that he'd imagined it. White pin pricks very duly glowing now, he debated internally whether they should start this conversation now or wait until they'd both recovered. Frisk would probably be easier to brush off if her questions got too deep now rather than later. "Yeah..... I've never met any of 'em before, but... Knew they were out there, ya know,"he spoke a bit slow and slurred. Maybe he should just teleport them the rest of the way home? They were exhausted after all, and the thought of snuggling down with a soft, warm human was incredibly appealing.

But instead of his body listening to his head, his mouth continued on rambling,"But... Wonder why he came here. Could'a gone to any universe, and he came here. And now.... When everything's settlin' down, he wants to destroy it..."

He stayed silent for some time, his hazy mind trying to comprehend what the universe had against him finally being happy. Why did every timeline end at his expense? Did he really deserve all of this? Did he deserve happiness? Probably not. Maybe all of those times he'd heartlessly murdered Frisk were catching up with him in the form of his corrupt doppelganger.

"I don't want this to end."

He hardly even registered the words had left his mouth, but didn't say anything more as he slid his cold bony hand into Frisk's. He couldn't fathom the thought of starting over again, much less having everything just end.

No.

He wouldn't allow it.

He was finally happy, everyone was. He wouldn't let it be ripped away like that. He would fight until he was dust if he had to, but everyone's joy, [I]his[/I] joy, it would have to be pried from his cold, dead fingers. And if he died by that other Sans' hands from his efforts, then at least he died trying.