[There's just too much grief to parse here. Mettaton knows he'll be going through this for days. But having Sans here, even as he wants to continue crying, eases the pain just a bit. Feeling him still in his soul doesn't fill the hole she left but it makes it seem less hollow.

He sniffles a bit, holds Sans to his chest for another moment, and then kisses the top of his head.]

Why don't we... go someplace else for now? Some place with a soft bed. Then we can both dramatically cry into a pillow in relative luxury.

[He's no where near done sobbing for the next few hours, but if Sans is at least near him while he does, he won't feel so alone.]