9-1-1 ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛs

Coping - Evan Buckley

Piper Buckley - 7

Evan Buckley sat at the kitchen table, staring into his cup of coffee, lost in thought. It had been a few days since the tsunami had torn through Los Angeles, leaving devastation in its wake. He couldn't shake the images from his mind—the water surging, the panicked screams, the desperate fight for survival. But most of all, he couldn't forget the terrified look on his daughter Piper's face as they clung to each other in the chaos.

Piper, his bright and bubbly seven-year-old, had always been full of life. She was the kind of kid who made friends wherever she went, who filled every room with laughter. But since the tsunami, she had retreated into herself. She hadn't spoken a word since they were rescued, and her silence was deafening.

Buck glanced at the clock. It was still early, but he could hear Christopher stirring in his room. Eddie had been a rock through all of this, buck was watch Christopher as Eddie worked. They had all been through hell.

Buck set his cup down and walked to Piper's room. He gently knocked on the door before pushing it open. Piper was sitting on her bed, staring out the window. Her eyes were vacant, lost in a world of her own.

"Hey, kiddo," Buck said softly, sitting down beside her. "How are you feeling?"

Piper didn't respond. She just continued to stare, her small body tense and withdrawn. Buck's heart ached seeing her like this. He reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't react.

"I know it's been really hard," Buck continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But we're going to get through this together. I promise."

Piper's only response was a slight shiver. Buck sighed, feeling helpless. He stood up and went to the kitchen, where he started making breakfast. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, a familiar routine would bring some comfort to his daughter.

---

Christopher joined them at the table a little while later. He had his own scars from the tsunami, but he was resilient. He watched Piper with concern, his own experience giving him an understanding far beyond his years.

"Morning, Chris," Buck said, trying to keep his tone light. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," Christopher replied, but his eyes flicked to Piper, who was pushing her food around on her plate.

Buck knelt down beside Piper, trying to meet her eyes. "Piper, sweetheart, you need to eat something."

Piper didn't look at him. She just kept moving her food around, as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't know how to reach her, how to bring her back to him. He had faced death and danger countless times, but this, watching his daughter withdraw into silence, was the hardest thing he had ever faced.

After breakfast, Buck decided to take Piper and Christopher to the park. Maybe some fresh air would help. He packed a bag and they headed out, the late morning sun casting a warm glow over the city that was slowly starting to rebuild.

The park was quieter than usual, the memory of the tsunami still fresh in everyone's minds. Buck found a bench and sat down, watching as Christopher tried to engage Piper in a game of catch. She half-heartedly threw the ball back to him, but it was clear her heart wasn't in it.

---

Days passed, and Piper's silence continued. Buck tried everything he could think of, talking to her, reading her favorite stories, playing her favorite games, but nothing seemed to break through the wall she had built around herself. She had started having nightmares, waking up screaming in the middle of the night, her face pale with terror.