(impossible beautiful artwork by @omgfitzsimmons)
QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT (The Science of Us): Chapter III
Jemma knows better than to try to ascribe scientific laws to non-scientific interactions the way that foolish lay people usually do. After all, if “opposites attract” were truly applicable to human relationships, she and Fitz would be doomed.
But in her endless night spent wandering and scrabbling for survival on Maveth, she has an abundance of time to try to put their connection, their friendship, into terms her brain can accept.
In the early days, she clings to the notion that scientific law, though practically her bread and butter and her Bible and her lifeblood and every other metaphor encapsulating how strongly she upholds it, is not fixed and unchangeable. Human understanding of nature and reality is fallible.
So when Newton asserted that “Every particle of matter in the universe attracts every other particle with a force that is directly proportional to the product of the masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them,” he clearly did not expect the strength and determination of the particles of matter which make up Doctor Doctor Agent Jemma Simmons. Her mass may be small, the distance between her and Fitz and home may be great, but the attraction, the pull, the incessant drive to return, is as powerful as ever.
When she notices (with a whole-body ache and a sob) that attraction’s inevitable waning, she analyzes that too. Is it due to the mass she has lost through starvation and exertion? Is it the distance – is this hellplanet drifting orbit-less through space, taking her ever farther away from Fitz? Or has their connection finally been broken? Have they actually always been subject to the same laws governing everyone else, and she is now too far away to draw them back together?
But the particles that make up Leopold Fitz must be made of similarly stubborn, universe-defying stuff, she realizes when their fingers brush and brush and brush and hold in a dust storm.
Isaac Newton can suck it.
(She draws the line at believing that the cosmos itself is directing their relationship. Shoddily translating science to humanity is one thing, but anthropomorphizing inanimate intangibles is too far, Fitz.)
Months later and a lifetime away, she has to smile when Fitz speaks of the singularity. He describes the monumental nature of their having sex as if they are a star tumbling into a black hole and she is reminded again how well they are matched. For she has likewise been analyzing their situation with science, though she has chosen a less terrifying and more hopeful comparison.
Sex, making love, crossing the event horizon – that is nothing if not a chemical reaction, the ultimate collision of their disparate, desperate elements. But a chemical reaction does not obliterate. “Certain combinations of atoms transform into new combinations of atoms.” This change will not be an ending for them, no matter what happens. Their friendship will not be lost because they cannot be destroyed. In colliding, in joining, they will simply become something new.
Who ever said science wasn’t sexy?
(Read all the installments in this drabble series here.)