I don't know if you've um, noticed, but that's sort of what I do.

[It's almost a self-deprecating joke--how many times since he's been here has someone told him he needs to take a stand and stop trying to appease everyone? At least three or four--but it's mostly just a tired truth. His hands are still shaking, hidden in the pocket of his hoodie, and he's still too unsure to actually reach out and try to help steady Sans, but he's watching in concern all the same.]

B-But I mean, unless you're telling me what happened wasn't an accident, then no one's really at fault here except the gods. S-So it's not like there's really a fence; there's only one side.