Tucker splashed water on her face and took slow breaths. She turned the water off and grabbed some paper towels to wipe her face. She looked up and saw Prentiss standing in the doorway. She tossed the paper towel in the trash and turned to look at the agent. If Prentiss hadn't followed her in the room, Tucker would have taken a hit from the joint she had in her pocket. She didn't want to get high around Reid but it was the only way she knew of to deal with her father. She couldn't deal with him sober; it just hurt too much.

"So, what's your poison?" Prentiss asked suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm a profiler, Tucker. I know you use something so what is it."

Tucker sighed and dug in her pocket. She tossed the joint on the counter top, "Pot and heroin. Pot helps me relax and heroin helps me forget about all the horrible things I have seen. I tried not to use but," Tucker looked down, "my life has not been a Disney movie and I needed something so that I could close my eyes and not hear the screams echo in my head."

"Does Reid know?"

"I think so since when he found me I had a syringe of heroin that I was about to inject into my arm. He hasn't said anything but I know he is worried about me," Tucker felt tears come to her eyes and she crossed her arms on her chest feeling Reid's sweater giving her warmth, "I don't want to hurt him, Emily but this is who I am. I don't know any other way to deal with my pain or the things I have seen."

Prentiss looked at the girl and realized why Reid cared about her. Tucker was the type of person everyone wanted to shelter and protect from harm. She looked so small and scared at the moment that all Prentiss wanted to do as hug her and keep her safe. Prentiss knew however, that in the end that wasn't going to help Tucker. This girl had to be strong; she had to have some sort of strength inside of her to survive so long running away from her murderous father. What Tucker needed was for someone to help her use that strength and show her that she wasn't weak or she didn't always need protecting.

"Talking about it helps. If you hide away and get high pretending it never happen, in the end that doesn't help anyone, including yourself. But if you walk out there and you tell the agents what happened and what you saw in the end it might help someone else; you might save his next victim," Prentiss explained.

Tucker nodded knowing that Prentiss was right. It was just the thought at having to relive all those memories. She closed her eyes and thought about Reid. He had promised he would be there with her and wouldn't leave her side. She believed him and knew that he wouldn't leave her. She opened her eyes and looked at Prentiss. She sighed and wiped the tears from her face. She told herself she could do this. She could suffer though this day in order to have the chance to save someone else from being his victim. She walked towards the door Prentiss behind her.

Reid sat in the chair looking at the two mugs of coffee he had gotten. One was for himself the other for Tucker. He kept glancing at the door wishing she would walk though it with Prentiss. He wanted to get up and go after her but he knew that he had caused enough of a stir demanding that Morgan remove the pictures of the victims and crime scenes from the wall. Morgan had and they were all in a folder in front of him. Reid hated them being there because he knew at some point Rossi or Morgan were going to refer to a victim and show Tucker a photo. Or worse, Tucker would ask to see it. He turned and smiled when Tucker finally walked into the room. He got up and pulled out the chair beside him. Tucker walked over to him and smiled softly. He could see that she had been crying and wished that she would have let him go with her. He sat back down and placed the mug of coffee in front of her. She looked at it then back at him.

"I thought you could use it. Black with two sugars," he said.

"Thanks, Spence. Never knew you noticed how I take my coffee," she stated.

"He notices everything. I'm Derek Morgan," Morgan said holding out his hand. Tucker reached out and took it shaking it.

"Tucker McLean. Although I think most of you probably know me as Deliverance From Evil Worthington."

"Why did you change your name?" Rossi asked.

"When I went into foster care I thought I was safe from him. Then the first body turned up with the note. And then another. I knew he wanted me back and he was looking for me. I told my social worker and I got placed in a psych ward for a week while they tried to determine why I was lying," Tucker started wrapping her hands around the mug so that no one would see the slight shake in them, "at sixteen I couldn't take it anymore. I thought if I ran away and made Deliverance disappear it would stop."

"What would stop?" Reid asked softly leaning towards her.

"The killings. I thought that if Deliverance was gone, my crazy ass father would stop hurting all these innocent women to get to her. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't that he would always kill my nightmares reminded me of this but... I just needed to get out and try to do something."

"And no one believed you?" Prentiss asked.

"No. My father was very charming and he could lie so well. They always believed him and after that school counsellor, I was labelled a liar with a wild imagination. They all thought I started it because my mother had left-," Tucker stopped and closed her eyes.

Reid could see the pain in her face. He reached over and placed a hand on her knee. He knew she needed someone to comfort her. He could feel everyone's eyes on them but he didn't care. Even if Morgan took him off the case he wasn't going to leave Tucker's side. She needed him and he wasn't going to leave her hanging.

"Your mother left?" Morgan asked seeing the tears roll down Tucker's eyes. He watched as she reached down and took Reid's hand in hers. He would have been happy that Reid had finally found someone but right at the moment was not the time. Especially not when the person Reid wanted was being chased by her serial killer father.

"No, she didn't leave. He killed her when I was six. He let everyone believe that she had left though. Some of the only memories I have of her is her screaming as he stabbed her over and over," Tucker answered.

None of the agents said anything. There was nothing to say as Tucker broke down and began to sob. Reid wrapped his arms around her and tried to console her but all of them knew her pain was deep inside. She pulled away from Reid and sat there in the chair. She then got up and walked over to one of the clear boards. She grabbed a marker and quickly wrote a name on the board. Clayton Repentance Worthington was written and then the address of a farm from what Reid could tell. She turned and looked at the agents.

"That is my father's name and the farm where he killed my mother and ten other women. It's outside of Lawrence and had been owned by his family for years," Tucker said hugging herself.

"Do you think he is there now?" Rossi asked as Morgan called Garcia to get her started on a trace on Clayton.

"No. Last time he was there was when I was ten. We moved but," Tucker closed her eyes, "the bodies didn't. He had acres and acres and he never left the property to get rid of the bodies."

"Does he own any other properties?" Reid asked watching Tucker.

"I don't know. We moved a lot in those two years and lived in a lot of dumps. I know that we're rich, apparently. The first Clayton Worthington came to America when they set up the first colony at Jamestown. He was rich and his wealth just grew when he was here."

"That still doesn't explain the awful Puritan names," Prentiss said trying to lighten the mood. She knew that Tucker needed it.

"The first Clayton lost his family to fever and he believed it was God's way of punishing him because he had left the faith. So Clayton went shopping around for a few years and found the Puritan faith. It appealed to him and he joined and got a new wife and new family. Since then most of the family Worthington have at least one Puritan name," Tucker explained remembering what she had read in her mother's journal.

"But you got three," Rossi pointed out.

"My father. He majored in History and got his doctorate. He specialized in Puritan History. He insisted that my mother name me Deliverance From Evil. She wanted to name me Tucker Deliverance."

"How do you know this?" Morgan asked turning around.

"I," Tucker knew when she mentioned the journal they would want it. She didn't want to give it up but knew that she had too, "I have her journal. My father never got rid of some of her things and when we moved I took it with me. It has been with me ever since. Along with my journal which I have lost apparently."

"Is this it?" Reid asked pulling the green notebook out of his bag.

"Yeah, it is, Spence. I left it at the cafe, I guess."

"You were in a hurry to get out of there."

"I was. Anyway, I wrote down most of the things I remember him doing and... The things he made me help him do."

"He made you help?" Prentiss asked.

"He did. He wanted to teach me how it was done. I was so scared and I knew it was wrong but... he was my father."

"Can you lead us though your early life? It might help us work on a more in depth profile of him," Morgan added seeing the fear on her face.

"I... I'll try."

Reid watched as Tucker walked back to the chair and sat down beside him. She took her journal and opened it. She took a slow breath and started talking about her early life. Reid closed his eyes as he heard Tucker's voice void of emotion describe how her father had murdered eleven women in front of her. She talked about the first time he had made her help him cut up one of his victims and how the blood had stuck to her body and the smell of it had made her sick. Reid finally needed to reach out and he placed his hand on her knee. Tucker didn't acknowledge him and he knew that she couldn't when she was talking about her horrible childhood. He sat beside her letting her know he was there whenever she needed him.