Well folks, another heartfelt thanks for the reviews and feedback. Your thoughts are always great to read!
This one isn't tagged to a specific episode, but occurs in season 7, at some point after "Epilogue".

It was inspired by Seether's song "Fake It", the lyrics of which also serve as this chapter's quote. I heard the opening lines and it made me think of Emily immediately, and it WOULD. NOT. LEAVE. ME. ALONE. until I wrote it out.

Happy reading =)

"Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
the one you sold to fool the world
you lost your self-esteem along the way…"

– Seether, "Fake It"

"Hey, Emily," I say as I slide into the seat across from her on the jet.

"Hey," she answers with a small smile, turning her gaze to me briefly before settling it back out the window.

I take a moment to observe her. She's wearing more makeup than usual under her eyes – likely a result of trying to compensate for the dark rings and bags that had formed after nearly 2 weeks with little sleep – and her eyes themselves seem weary. But I think we all have that look of weariness about us – gruesome cases tend to do that.

"You up for a game of chess?" I ask hopefully. Chess has become something of a healing process for us both, and it's not uncommon for the two of us to focus on a tough game after an emotionally draining case.

"Not today, handsome," she answers apologetically. "I wouldn't much of an opponent today."

I frown at her words. "Are you okay?"

She offers that small smile again, and reaches out to give my hand a slight squeeze. "Yeah," she answers softly, "just tired."

"Do you need a pillow? I can get you a blanket. I've noticed the jet's been colder than usual, probably a result of-"

"Reid, I'm fine," she says, interrupting my rambling.

I smile sheepishly. "Sorry."

She shakes her head gently and waves off my apology before her eyes drift once more to the window. I scrutinize her carefully. This case had been tough for everyone. Morgan's closed eyes and blaring headphones, JJ's quick texting and intermittent smiles as she scrolls through her phone, Hotch's hushed tone as he chats with Jack, and the glass of expensive scotch in front of Rossi all attest to that. But she's seemed that much quieter and that much more pensive on this long flight home.

"What're you thinking about?" I ask quietly, knowing for certain that she's focused on something particular in her mind. It's not so bad that she's anxious about it – her fingernails are still intact and she hasn't been picking at them – but she is unconsciously circling her index finger with her thumb, something she only does when she's thinking deeply about something.

She lets out a quiet breath before she answers. "Souls," she says simply.

I feel my brow furrowing. Souls? I knew that she was religious – the case with her childhood friend, and her admission of hoping there was a better future waiting for her after admitting she coded in the ambulance proved that – but I hadn't realized it was as significant in her life as it apparently is.

"Specifically what about souls? I'm quite well-versed on philosophical approaches to the possible existence and role of souls, as well as common and some uncommon religious viewpoints and beliefs. Maybe I can give you an answer."

Her eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and I'm confident that were she not so weighted down by her thoughts, she'd tease me for my enthusiastic response. She shrugs. "Their existence…whether or not they can become tarnished…whether or not they play an important role in our lives…"

"Well the existence of souls is one that has been debated – and is still being debated – by many philosophers and religious scholars alike," I explain, happy to put my vast readings on the subject to good use. "Before Descartes, most believed that a human was comprised of a body and a soul, but after Descartes the majority considered the soul as identical to the mind. The question that remained, however, is whether or not the mind is the same as the brain."

"Is it?"

I shrug. "As with anything in philosophy, it's a big question that remains to be answered definitively one way or another. Studies in neuroscience have shown mental states as being dependent on brain states, and have identified specific areas associated with particular mental dispositions."

"So science says the brain and mind are one and the same?"

"It hasn't proven it yet, but it's found some interesting evidence to suggest that, yes."

"And the religious stance asks someone to take a soul's existence on the basis of faith?"

"I suppose you could explain it that way. For Catholics, souls are purported to be integrally linked but distinct from the body and are typically the moral and spiritual centre of a person. They're widely considered to be the basis of human consciousness and freedom, and are generally thought to be immortal."

"Right," she says with a nod. "Your body dies, but your soul is judged by God."

"Apparently," I agree.

"What do you think?"

I pause for a moment to consider her question. The problem is that I don't know what I think. Everything with Tobias Hankel had thrown a wrench into my firm belief of science. I can't explain what I experienced, and I still don't know how to categorize it. "I think there's still a great deal that we don't know," I finally answer, "which makes it nearly impossible to make a decision one way or another."

"Do you think a person's soul can be tarnished?" she asks as she tilts her head, repeating the question she'd mused aloud earlier.

"Tarnished?" I repeat, unsure what she's getting at.

"Yeah, like…by immoral acts or evil?"

"Sins?" I offer, looking to clarify.

She frowns, clearly not content with that description. "Not sins. Immoral acts."

"Aren't they one and the same in religion?" I ask, wondering exactly what it is that she's thinking about. Clearly it's a particular instance of something that has her wondering…

"What if the immoral act is for the greater good?" she counters. Her persistence is a little surprising. This is the kind of subject she'd usually drop quickly and return to her quiet contemplation.

"I'm not a priest, so I couldn't say," I say with a shrug. We both fall silent, the hum of the jet's engine filling the void.

"Sometimes I wonder what the cost of doing this job is."

I frown at her words. "What do you mean?"

"We deal with some of the most heinous and evil people in society every single day. We let ourselves get in their heads and think like them. After a certain amount of time that has to leave a mark on you, doesn't it?"

"I guess… Gideon suffered for that very reason. He couldn't make sense of it anymore, and just wanted to see the good in people again."

"Do you think the good he did outweighs the bad?"

"Definitely," I answer. "He saved hundreds of lives, and put away some of the most dangerous criminals."

"At the cost of being absent to his own family," she points out, honing in again on the greater good argument.

"I suppose," I answer with a shrug. Suddenly it hits me. Doyle. She's wondering if everything she did with Doyle – immoral acts, but with an end goal of putting him away and saving Declan – means she won't get that better future she's hoping for. She's wondering if Doyle will forever be a mark on her soul.

We fall into silence, the hum of the jet's engines filling the void. I'm left trying to figure out how to comfort her. If she's doubting whether she's going to get that better future, then she definitely needs some comfort. The idea of death is a scary one for people, even more so for her, given she's already experienced it to an extent and remembers what happened.

Of course the fact that her experience had been less than comforting doesn't help. Cold and darkness, she'd said. The warmth and light I felt had been a strange comfort at the time itself, as well as afterward. Even as I struggled to explain it, and it brought up more questions than answers, it had been a small comfort to know death itself did not hold pain and discomfort. I can see how her experience might spook her, and lead her to wonder if it was something about her that had led to our opposite experiences.

"You're not a bad person, Emily," I say gently.

"I know that," she answers, her brow furrowing.

"I can't give you an explanation for the cold and darkness you felt, but I don't believe that what you had to do with Doyle has doomed you to a future of that kind."

She offers a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, Reid."

I let out a sigh. I hate that she's struggling with this. Instances like this are one of the reasons I have a hard time backing a belief in religion, scientific evidence aside.

"You're a good person, Emily. My own views on the afterlife are…muddied at best, but I can't reconcile the existence of a God who would punish someone who worked so hard to save an innocent child, and put away a man like Ian Doyle, even if it involved some…less than "moral" means."

She smiles again, this time a little more genuinely. "You're quite sweet, you know that?"

I feel a blush spread in my cheeks at her words, but I continue on. "I don't think your soul is tarnished at all."

"No?"

"No," I agree with a shake of my head. "You did what you had to do, and in the process gave an innocent little boy a chance at his own life, not to mention you took down a wanted terrorist and arms dealer."

"I suppose when you put it like that…"

"And even after all of that, you spend your days dealing with the evils of the world so others don't have to. If anyone qualifies for a good soul, it would be you, Emily."

"I don't think it means much to a mostly atheistic person like you, but the same could be said for you, Spencer. You could have made millions with your mind, but instead you fight crime and evil. Pretty good resume for an untarnished soul, I'd say."

I feel a small smile form on my lips. "Thank you."

"No, thank you, handsome. You know, I might just be up for some chess after all."

I grin at her words and pull the travel set from my messenger bag. "White or black?"

She lets out a laugh. "I thought we established I had a good soul…doesn't that mean I should play with white?"

I roll my eyes and hand her the white pieces, happy to hear her laugh after learning what she'd been struggling with. While my own beliefs were far from set in stone, I feel confident in what I'd told her. She is a good person, past behaviour and all. In fact, with how often she puts others before herself, she's one of the better people I've met.

So...did you think her questions made sense? Did your eyes glaze over at Reid's philosophical ramblings? Feel a bit of sympathy for Emily as she struggled with that kind of worry? Let me know!