"Huh? Why would you blame yourself for that? Things are already bad, how could anybody attribute a cause to any of it? Except for the vampires. They made it worse."

There's probably a few sort-of valid reasons why Sans doesn't go to his brother for this sort of thing, and this sort of thing is most of them. He's got little patience for anybody feeling sorry for themselves, not even himself.

He lets out a sigh, rests his elbows on the table despite the deplorable manners of it, and scratches at a cheekbone. Everybody knows the best way to distract from feeling upset is to focus on something else. Time to change the subject!

"I thought, maybe you were more than friends... Because I hoped maybe he'd found somebody to confide in!" Also the way that nobody else ever said to stop picking on Sans... but, then, back home, Sans had always been wittier and quicker with a deflection than just about anybody.

For a given value of wit.

It'd been obvious for a couple years that something was wrong, but...

"He starts talking to me, sometimes. But he always shuts himself down. I know some of what's wrong, but not why he's so weird about it."