[Sans sags against the back of the couch, scrubbing at his face to try and wake himself up more while Papyrus retrieves the screwdriver. He's not sure how long he was asleep, but he knows it wasn't long enough. But with echoes of anomalies and things underground drifting through his thoughts, going back to sleep right now's just asking for another bad time. He sorts out his ruffled feathers instead.] Were you working on something?
[It's safer to focus on whatever Papyrus was doing.]
no subject
[It's safer to focus on whatever Papyrus was doing.]