It's all a matter of setting priorities and keeping them.

These had been your exact words—your piece of advice to Elle—over half a year ago. She had asked you how you do it: how you're able to mediate between family and work, how you can separate the two aspects of your life.

And now, here you are, with a chance to teach by example. This line of work will always prioritize justice over mercy, and over happiness (you've worked in this field long enough to suspect that the two may be mutually exclusive anyway).

Priorities.

You're well aware that not very many people have it in them to oversee a BAU team. The things you see from day to day, the reality in which you live: it's brutal. It's horrid. To witness such things and still retain some shred of faith in humanity takes willpower. It takes strong compartmentalization.

Over the years, you've perfected this art. You compartmentalize better than most, you would like to think. There truly is no other option; being a profiler requires emotional restraint. Victims are merely evidence, a shrine of clues to be extracted (as opposed to being the son or daughter of a heartbroken mother somewhere out there). The broken families and resulting broken lives of the unsubs are not your concern. Rape is a very real, very common occurrence. Aggravated battery. Torture. Murder. Terrorism. No big deal.

It's a cold job. To be able to deal with such a cold job, one must also be cold. People comment on this, on how you seem to never smile—work here long enough and they'll eventually understand. One must compartmentalize, separate feelings and facts...because feelings often have no place in your line of work.

And so, you glance down at the badge and gun placed on your desk and mull it over.

Fact: Elle purposefully missed her psychological assessment, and you can't have that—you require utmost honesty from your team; you need to be able to trust them wholly.

Feeling: you like Elle. You've grown to really truly trust her over the past year—the BAU team is more than a team; it's your second family.

Fact: Elle—regardless of whether or not her defence explanation is valid—is not able to perform at her peak efficiency, not since the Fisher incident...and you need your team to be on its A-game.

Feeling: guilt. A torrent of guilt and sadness at the prospect that Elle's restless state of mind may be partly your fault. You were the one who sent her home that night, after all.

Fact: you are chief of the behavioural analysis unit. You are responsible for calling the shots, hard as some shots may be.

Priorities.

Facts takes priority over feelings in this scenario. Cold justice will prevail...even if feels as though it cost you your compassion, and will most definitely cost you a friend (a family member). Regardless, you are a man of your word. It's for the greater good. You steel yourself with fresh resolve.

And it is this resolve that holds your tongue with vice-like grip as she gives you a sad smile and walks out of your office for the last time. The grip doesn't loosen until she is truly and utterly gone (from the FBI and the BAU team, from your life).

It's all a matter of setting priorities and keeping them, you had told her.

You forgot to mention how damn hard that can be, though.