They had spent the day at Medical. After much consultation with an expert in deep scarring, they'd finally come up with a way to remove every little bit of evidence of the brand on his back. He'd been knocked out, then a small team had set to work. It had taken three hours of intense microsurgery followed by another three of density regeneration treatments. Eventually, the ugliest reminder of everything he had endured had been eradicated.

It had taken longer for her and Deanna to prepare him to go to Medical than it had to get rid of the thing. He had resisted discussing the brand at all right from the start. On top of that, he had told them quite clearly that he didn't want anything to do with Starfleet, he just wanted to be left alone. Eventually, after weeks of gentle encouragement, he'd agreed. They had transported site to site, something Starfleet were more than happy to allow for him. Then she'd promised to stay right next to him, hold his hand, all the way through. He couldn't stand the thought of being unconscious and alone... anything could happen.

She and Deanna had taken shifts given the duration. and it had all worked out. He'd come round to find himself under the glowing beam of a regen field, a somewhat enjoyable and warm feeling of which he had plenty of past experience. He'd woken badly, shaking with undisguised fear, his eyes wide, darting across the room. Once she'd orientated him, he'd lain back, exhausted, relieved. It was over.

Beverly was beyond relieved. Though he couldn't see it for himself without really trying given its position on his back, she knew he was very aware of it. He still didn't like being touched, but anyone going anywhere near his back had made him physically react. She of course, had seen it plenty of times. When he'd been changing, was fresh out of the shower... it was a daily reminder to her of all that he had been through, of what brutality had been inflicted upon him.

Now, he was resting on the sofa, worn out from a long day. She suspected he had plenty of processing to do. Since the focus of the day had been on the brand, he would no doubt have been thinking deeply about it himself.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked again.

Still no answer, she went to him, put her hand on his knee. He startled immediately, stiffening visibly.

"Jean?"

"I'm sorry… I wasn't listening."

"I know… it's okay." She said gently, smiling. "Cup of tea?"

He nodded, "Please."

She left him sitting in the living room at the front of the house. A fire was blazing in the grate, evening was drawing ever closer. They were waiting for Louis to get home from school. His timing had become erratic since his father's return. Beverly suspected he was doing everything he could not to have to come home.

She wondered back in with their drinks, putting Jean-Luc's down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"He should be home…" He said. There was an edge of something hard in his voice, something she didn't like but couldn't put her finger on.

She kept her own voice neutral, gentle, "Don't worry, I'm sure he's about to come bursting through the door."

He took a sip of his tea then, silence fell upon them again. The flames of the fire were reflecting in his eyes, casting long shadows in the otherwise dark room.

"Does he do this regularly?"

"Well, you remember what it's like to be seventeen? He's growing up Jean-Luc, testing his limits. I'm not worried."

"What if he's hurt?"

His anxiety was making it difficult for her to maintain her calm. Louis was her third son, she'd done this countless times before. He of course, never had. He'd missed the worst of Theodore's terrible teens, wasn't such a domestic presence when it was Wesley's turn. "I'm sure he's fine. Why don't we have something to eat. Are you hungry?"

Her distraction tactic fell short, "No." He stood, suddenly, went to the window and peered around the shutter hesitantly. "Perhaps we should call security."

She sputtered around the mouthful of tea she'd just taken, "As in… Starfleet security?"

"Yes. He might be in trouble, they can scan for him and bring him home."

"Jean-Luc, try to think about this rationally. He's a seventeen year old boy, it's only nine… I really don't think we need to summon Starfleet Security into action."

He fell silent then but maintained his position behind the shutter, keeping watch.

An hour later, Louis blustered through the front door casually. He dropped his bag on the floor, and just about managed to hang up his jacket before he was confronted by his mother.

"Papa?" Papa?"

"Loulou, where have you been?" she asked him hurriedly, kissing him on the cheek. Then she noticed the additional person who had tagged on behind him. "Guinan?!" Beverly stared in amazement. Of all the people in the galaxy she might have expected at this moment, Guinan didn't even make her top twenty.

"Hello there Beverly." She smiled beatifically and leaned in to hug her.

Louis jumped in, "I was coming home past the transport station and bumped into Guinan – incroyable! She's here to see Papa!"

"I heard he might be in need of a listening ear?"

"Oh Guinan… I think that's the understatement of the century… What do you know? Here let me take that from you." Beverly said, picking up the beautifully wrapped, but cumbersome toddler-sized object that was standing next to Guinan. Louis took it from his mother, in turn, and staggered into the living room with it.

"Thank you… well, I heard some things. Word gets around." She replied mystically. "I brought a gift for him."

Beverly lead the way through to the living room calling out as she went so he wouldn't be startled, "Jean-Luc, you have an amazing visitor – Guinan is here to see you!"

He was standing in the middle of the living room in front of the fire, "I thought it was you… through the window…" he said pointing toward where he'd been standing just seconds beforehand. He smiled, a broad and full smile, the first in a long while, "Guinan…What are you doing here?!"

Guinan astutely avoided going to hug him and sat instead, on one of the armchairs in a swathe of jewel-toned material, her signature headwear atop her head. "I brought you a gift."

"It's pretty heavy Papa," said Louis, placing the mysterious object at his feet.

"Go ahead, open it up," said Guinan, smiling warmly.

Jean-Luc looked confused for a moment, then nodded and started to take the object out of its wrapping. When he'd freed it from the box, with a little help from his son, there stood what looked like a ceramic tree trunk made to resemble the most intricate details of an ancient piece of wood-carved amphora. "It's beautiful…"

"Go ahead, you can touch it."

He reached for the huge vase-shaped object and placed his hand on one flank, "It's warm… it's actually wood?"

She nodded her head, the hat amplifying the gesture, "It's an ancient art form that was practiced on El-Auria, arboreous reveal is the nearest translation of the technique. You see, the artist carefully selects an ancient trunk from a fallen tree. They carefully hollow it out, remove all the bark, and then they set to work on revealing what was underneath all the burrs of the tree. Then they carve what they find into a new shape, in this case, an amphora."

"I don't know this word, burrs?" asked Louis as he felt the smooth section of the sculpture under his palm. The rest of the object had a series of fascinating and strange otherworldly patterns with protruding shapes, fissures, and sections cut away leaving a maw into the interior of the sculpture creating an almost impossible object as though made from clay, at the same time as it came to mimic a completely organic landscape created by nature itself.

"A burr is the growth that a tree produces to protect the parts of it that get injured. What you can see on the side there, is what is underneath the burr once it is excavated – like a small-scale, intricate landscape, loops, swirls, like stalactites some say… or even a cave with great depth to it and all right there for you, telling you about the tree's journey through life."

"Cooool…" said Louis, completely amazed by this strange object.

"See all the beautiful intricate patterning?"

"Guinan, this is a wonderful gift. Thank you," said Beverly, herself equally drawn by the mysterious new arrival. As much as she was drawn to the object, she was more than glad to see Jean-Luc so wonderfully distracted and absorbed in his friend and the gift.

Guinan winked at her, as though reading her thoughts. "Then, this artist has scorched the wood, that's how it gets its black colour."

"I don't know what to say…" whispered Jean-Luc, completely mesmerised by the beautiful gift before him.

"What you have there is the true nature of a tree hundreds, thousands of years old. All the things it has seen, the damage that has been enacted upon it, all recorded for all time in the most beautiful way that nature could come up with. All the artist does is reveal the magic that lay hidden underneath. See this section here?" she said, pointing out a particularly intricate part complete with striations of swirling knots of wood. "I happen to know that is the sight of a terrible injury where the tree was cut into repeatedly and then left to stand. Hundreds of years ago."

"I've never seen anything like it. It is truly a beautiful thing. Thank you Guinan, really," he said.

"Louis, come on, let's go and get some drinks," said Beverly artfully bustling her son out of the room. "I'll leave you to it – just call if you need me."

Guinan watched Louis and Beverly leave, smiling gracefully. "I hear you've had a rough time of it yourself."

Gingerly, he took a seat on the sofa, slowly lowering himself to the cushion. "That would be one way to put it."

"You don't have to talk about it. Just know I am here for you."

He could feel the prickle of tears in his eyes, the kindness of her arriving here from who-knew where seemed overwhelmingly wonderful. She had known, exactly known, when he'd needed her most, and she had come. "Guinan…" he muttered hoarsely.

"All I know is that people, like trees, have long lives and things sometimes happen. Most often good things, but sometimes, very, very bad things. All you have to do is remember that it's all a part of your life story, the good things, as well as the bad. All the things that happen to us make us who we are. I know you can't see it right now, but even this, right now, is forming part of you. You just have to know that under the ugliness of the burr, the beauty of your life awaits. As it has all along... you just need to dig it out."

"I never knew the burr was such an incredible thing… I always thought they were ugly, brought on by some sort of disease."

She nodded knowingly, "This amphora speaks of resilience, and strength in the face of fragility and weakness. And, you don't need me to tell you why I brought it here."

He smiled, having realised too well that the gift was meant as a metaphor to salve the passage through his current difficulties. "Thank you. It's so kind of you," he whispered, not trusting his voice.

"You don't need to thank me. I will take a nice cup of Earl Grey though?"

He laughed, his chest seemed to be suddenly filled with the warmth of a friendship he had been missing for years. "I think I can manage that."

He stood, then wandered into the kitchen marvelling at Guinan's sudden and unexpected appearance. Louis was sitting at the small table next to his mother. He was digging into a huge sandwich, and she was sipping at her drink. She peered at him over the rim of the cup. "That's a happy face."

"Isn't it amazing?" he said, the grin still firmly in place.

"I've come to realise, over the years, that nearly everything Guinan does is amazing. She's a wonder of the galaxy isn't she?"

"She certainly is."

"How long have you known her Papa?" asked Louis around a mouthful of baguette.

"Oh… many years. It's a long story, I'll tell you all about it one day."

"I prepared a pot of tea, want me to carry it through for you?" she asked.

"No, it's okay, I can manage. Thank you, Beverly."

She waved him away with her hand and he picked up the tray. He carried his burden through to the living room feeling it grow heavier by the second. He was concentrating so fiercely on not dropping the tray that when he finally looked up to find that Guinan had disappeared, he wasn't surprised.

"Huh…" he said as he put the tray down on the coffee table. Then he noticed a small piece of folded card on top of the amphora. He reached for it and opened it to find the intricate handwriting of the person he could only describe as his oldest friend, "Jean-Luc, know I am listening out for you, always. You have the strength to grow and heal through this burr and I know you are safe in the arms of your family, right where you belong. Though I may be far away, I am always with you."

He sat down on the sofa, the card dangling in his hand. The few tears that fell now were happy ones. Guinan always knew when to turn up. There was no part of him that ever doubted she would come. He hadn't even consciously realised he'd needed her and yet there before him, was the amphora, an incredible gift and reminder of their friendship. It was a truly beautiful thing, but it had given him more than an aesthetic kick. The metaphor had worked, settled into him. Just as he'd formed many burrs in his past after the Borg, the Cardassians, and a million other times he'd been injured, he would do so again. All he needed to do, was to see the underside of it, the beauty that was in his life already. And he knew he would, soon enough.


By the way, the inspiration for this gift comes form the work of an actual Earthling artist, Eleanor Lakelin. If my description didn't bring this kind of work to life, please check her out – very amazing.