You've been moping.

Ryland can see it plain as day, even if he wasn't a psychologist. He was educated in the biological, chemical side of science... not the human brain. But it doesn't take a mental health ambassador to take one look at you and know you've been depressed. He couldn't blame you entirely- being out in a high-tech space craft for the past year, trying to find a solution to a problem far past human comprehension would make anyone depressed. Besides, with the rest of the crew being long since dead- they hadn't survived the medically induced comas like he and you had- it wasn't impossible to believe you were, maybe... lonely.

You've been swiveling around in the control center chair for the past hour and a half, just staring at all the screens, watching the glowing ring of Astrophage the two of you had been studying. It wasn't changing much, just continuously gaining energy from the star in minuscule amounts. The samples were all steady. There wasn't much to do but wait and try to put the pieces together in your head.

Ryland was good with kids. Not as great with other humans his age. But he figured there was a child inside of every adult, no matter how old they got. He thought of all the techniques he used when he noticed one of his students was down in the dumps for one reason or another...

Ryland climbed up the rest of the hatch. The ship was built in three layers- the bottom being the dormitories, the middle being the fully stacked lab, and the top being the control room. He opened the palm of his hand and glanced down at the small objects- makeshift Jack's pieces and a ball he made out of rubber bands.

Smiling, Ryland watched you for a fond, sad moment before speaking. "Hey, wanna play a game?"