"Is it green?" It should be green, he thinks, and says before he can even consider why he's asking. Better that than saying that he has a couch, not when he doesn't want to go back inside to it, and maybe that's why. He misses their couch, jangly as it was.

Meanwhile Papyrus accepts the hand as best he can, trying to use the lift and the doorway together to help himself get upright. He does have to lean on Sans to stay upright away from it, between another wave of dizziness and muscle spasms. Everything feels even stiffer, maybe from sitting there in the cool air too long, and he forgets he's leaning on Sans, too busy wondering whether all the water in his human parts has managed to start freezing.