It was hard to see her. Stiles had to keep squinting and blinking to get her in focus. Her form was insubstantial — almost translucent — and kept fading in and out of his field of vision. But it was definitely Erica. Her features were washed out, making her skin and hair look whiter. A very, very faint glow seemed to outline her features.

The part that struck Stiles the most — aside from the fact that she was supposed to be dead — was the look on her face. It was sad; so, so sad. Looking into cat-like eyes, Stiles felt his heart break. All the memories came rushing back to him. He saw it all again: her body falling, the cruel look on Reddick's face... A lump formed in his throat and Stiles stood there frozen, stunned and unable to move.

Erica studied him too, her expression never changing. Sad. Grim. Serious. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. Several more heavy moments hung between them, and then she lifted her hand and extended it toward him. Something in that motion snapped Stiles out of his daze.

No, this could not be happening. He wasn't seeing this. Erica was dead. He'd seen her die. He'd held her body. He'd watched her been buried.

Her fingers moved slightly, like she was beckoning, and Stiles panicked. Backing up a few steps, he put distance between them and waited to see what would happen. Erica didn't follow. She simply stood there, hand still in the air. Stiles heart lurched, and he turned and ran.

He made it up to his room and slammed the door behind him, hands shaking.

What the hell? That had not been real. No way. Impossible. Erica was dead.

Clearly, Stiles was imagining things. That was it. It had to be. Probably the cold had frozen part of his brain too.

You don't really believe that, the Trickster said.

Stiles went back to bed but couldn't fall asleep. All he could see were those sad, cat-like eyes that seemed to say, Stiles, why did you let this happen to me?

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think. Since the funeral, he'd been working so hard to go on and act like he was strong. But the truth was, he was nowhere near being over her death.

It was all your fault.

Shut up, Stiles growled.

It couldn't have been Erica. Because while Stiles believed in Vampires and Werewolves and magic and psychic powers, he most certainly did not believe in ghosts.

He went to breakfast that night even more sleep deprived than he'd been before. And worse of all: today was the day. Or, well, the night. The big night. The start of the field experience.

For the next six weeks, Stiles wouldn't have any classes. He'd get to spend his days hanging out with Scott. Of course, the adult guardians planned tests for novices during this phase. The ordeals were tricky. A novice had to be on watch and not slack — and be ready to defend and attack if necessary.

"Hey, man."

Boyd caught up to Stiles as he walked into the gym. Stiles tried to think of anything that wasn't Erica — or her ghost — but failed.

Luckily, Boyd said: "Ready for this?"

"Hell, yeah," said Stiles. "It's going to be like a vacation. Me and Scott, together for six weeks."

Boyd turned thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess you don't have to worry as much. You know your assignment when you graduate. The rest of us aren't so lucky."

"You got your sights set on someone royal?" Stiles teased.

"Like that matters," Boyd grinned. "Most guardians are assigned to royals lately anyway."

There was a time in the past when more half-breeds, royal and non-royal alike, would have gotten guardians, and novices would have competed fiercely to get assigned to someone important. Now, there weren't enough guardians to go around, and less influential families were on their own.

"I'm nervous," Boyd admitted after a while. "How we're rated on this will go into our records."

Stiles nodded and started to say something when a loud, clear voice cut through the murmur of conversations. The novices looked up to face an impressive line of guardians. Malia was among them, stiff and serious and business-like.

"All right," Chris began. "You all know why you're here. This is the most important day of your education before you take your final trials. Today you will find out which half-breed you've been placed with. Last week, you were given a booklet with the full details of how the next six weeks will play out. I trust you've all read it by now." He glanced at Stiles like he doubted he'd ever read anything in his life. "Just to recap, Guardian Harris will highlight the main rules of this exercise."

Adrian Harris stepped forward. "You'll be on duty six days a week. This is actually a treat for you guys. In the real world, you're usually working every day. You will accompany your half-breed everywhere — to class, to their dorms. Everything. It's up to you to figure out how you fit into their lives. Some half-breeds interact with their guardians just like friends; some prefer you to be more of an invisible force who doesn't talk to them. Every situation is different, and you two will have to find a way to work it out to best ensure their safety."

"Attacks may come at any time, anywhere," said Chris, "so you should always be on your guard. Remember, even though you'll obviously know it's us doing the attacking and not real Vampires, you should respond as though your lives are in terrible, immediate danger. Don't be afraid of hurting us. Some of you may feel like you have to hold back, for fear of getting in trouble. Don't. You'll get in more trouble if you do hold back."

Harris agreed. "You will be on duty twenty-four hours a day for your six-day cycles, but you may sleep during daylight when your half-breed does. Just be aware that although Vampire attacks are rare in daylight, they aren't impossible indoors, and you will not necessarily be 'safe' during these times."

Harris read over a few more technicalities, and Stiles felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier.

Now you're wishing you had slept.

Just shut up!

"Alright," Chris' voice brought him back. "I'm going to call out your names one by one and announce who you're paired with. At that time, come down here to the floor to receive a packet containing information about your half-breed's schedule."

The novices straightened up as Chris leafed through his papers. He started calling names. Boyd was sweating beside Stiles.

"Vernon Boyd," Chris announced. Boyd gulped. "Scott McCall."

Both Boyd and Stiles froze for the space of a heartbeat, and then duty made Boyd head toward the floor.

The world around Stiles slowed to a blur. Chris kept calling names, but Stiles wasn't even hearing. What was going on? Clearly, someone had made a mistake. Scott was his assignment. He had to be. Stiles was going to be his guardian. This made no sense.

For whatever reason, the Trickster seemed to find that funny. Heart racing, Stiles took a deep breath. Okay. No need to panic just yet. Someone had made a clerical error here, one that could be fixed.

"Stilinski," Harris said, in that pissed off tone of his. "How many times do we have to call you?"

Stiles looked up.

"Kira Yukimura," said Chris. Stiles simply stared at him, unable to move or respond.

No. He had not just said that! This wasn't happening.

"Stilinski!"

Someone elbowed Stiles, like maybe he didn't recognize his own name. But there was a mistake! There had to be a mistake. Stiles headed toward the guardians and was handed a packet and a practice stake.

Disbelieving, he read the words on the packet's cover three times. Kira Yukimura. Flipping it open, he saw her life spread out before him. A current picture. Her class schedule. Her family tree. Her bio. It even went into detail about her parents' tragic history.

It was a sign of Stiles newly developing patience that he didn't walk right up to them then and there and demand answers. Oh, he wanted to. Instead, he let them go through their list.

When the last novice had been assigned his half-breed, Stiles cut through the crowd and stalked up to Malia and Chris, who were chatting about something and didn't notice him right away.

When Malia saw him, she made a face like she knew exactly what was coming. Stiles didn't care. He held up his packet and pointed. "What's the meaning of this?"

Chris' face looked blank and confused. "It's your assignment, Stilinski," he said.

"No," Stiles said through gritted teeth. "It's not. This is somebody else's assignment."

"The assignments in your field experience aren't optional," Chris told him sternly. "Just as your assignments in the real world won't be. You can't pick who you protect based on whim and mood, not here and certainly not after graduation."

"But after graduation, I'm going to be Scott's guardian!" Stiles exclaimed. "Everyone knows that. I'm supposed to have him for this thing."

"I know it's an accepted idea that you'll be together after graduation, but I do not recall any mandatory rulings that say you're 'supposed' to have him or anyone here at school. You take who you're assigned."

"Kira?" Stiles threw his packet on the floor. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm guarding her."

"Stiles!" snapped Malia, joining the conversation at last. Her voice was hard and sharp. "You're out of line. You do not speak to your instructors like that."

Stiles crossed his arms. He couldn't help it. He was too angry, and the lack of sleep was taking its toll. His nerves felt raw and strained, and suddenly, little things seemed difficult to bear.

"This is ridiculous," he said using words that weren't his. "Nearly as stupid as not bringing us to Gerard Argent's trial."

Malia's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe he had mentioned that and Stiles knew well why. But the possibilities of the troubles they could get into for that only made the Trickster enjoy this more.

Chris blinked in surprise. "How did you know—" He glanced at Malia who, for once, was staring at her shoes. "Never mind. We'll deal with that later. For now, this is your assignment, Stilinski, and you need to do it."

"This is ridiculous!" Stiles repeated. "Why should I waste my time with Kira? Scott's the one I'm going to be with when I graduate. Seems like if you want me to be able to do a good job, you should have me practice with him. It's what's best for everyone."

"Somewhere, someday, you could end up with a different half-breed," said Chris. "You need to learn how to guard someone with whom you have absolutely no experience. Not everyone you protect will be your friend. Not everyone you protect will be someone you like. You need to learn this. There's more to this job than the technicalities, Stilinski. There's a whole personal aspect — a bedside manner, if you will — that we don't touch on much in class. We teach you how to deal with the Cold Ones. You need to learn how to deal with the half-breeds yourselves. And you in particular need to deal with someone who has not been your best friend for years."

"You also need to learn what it's like to work with someone when you can't instantly sense that they're in danger," added Malia.

"Right," agreed Chris. "There's also that."

Stiles opened his mouth to fight, to argue, but Malia cut him off. "It also wouldn't be bad if you learned how to hold your tongue."

"This is the only assignment you're going to get," decided Chris. "If you don't take it, then you opt out of the field experience." And he walked away.

Stiles turned to Malia. "You need to—"

"No," she cut. "You need to be quiet. Look, Stiles, you may not be happy about this, but it is good. Working with another half-breed will help keep Scott alive. Scott's got a handicap too — and that's you. If he never has a chance to learn what it's like to be guarded by someone without a psychic connection, he could be at greater risk if attacked. Guarding someone is a two-person relationship. This assignment for your field experience is as much for him as it is for you."

Stiles stayed silent as he processed her words. They almost made sense. Reluctantly he picked up the packet. "Fine," he said icily. "I'll do this. But I want it noted that I'm doing this against my will."

He turned and stormed off across the gym. He was heading across the quad, toward the commons, when someone called: "Why so glum, little guardian?"

Stiles sighed. "Lydia, I'll be warning you, I'm not in the mood for anything."

"What happened? You're stomping through every puddle you can find and looking like you're going to punch the first person you see."

"Then you shouldn't stand so close."

"Aw, you'd never hurt me," she smiled. "My face is too pretty."

Stiles glanced at her. "I got assigned to Kira for my field experience."

There was a pause, and then Lydia laughed. "Wow. Now I see. In light of that, you actually seem remarkably calm."

"I was supposed to have Scott," Stiles growled. "I can't believe they did this to me."

"Why did they do it? Is there some chance you might not be with him when you graduate? Because, like I said, I'd love to have you."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "They seem to think this is going to help me train better. Malia and I will still be his real guardians later."

Lydia gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh, I'm sure that'll be quite the hardship for you two. What's the problem, then? Kira'll be with Scott all the time anyway."

She had a point.

"Have I mentioned your aura to you?" she asked suddenly. There was a strange note to her voice. Hesitant. Curious. Concerned.

"Everytime you see me."

"Auras are strange," she mumbled, eyes on him, but he knew she wasn't seeing him. "They ebb and flow and change colors and brightness. Some are vivid, some are pale. Every once in a while, someone's will settle and burn with such a pure color that you can..." She tipped her head back, staring into the sky. "You can instantly grasp what it means. It's like seeing into their soul."

"But you haven't figured mine out, huh?" He said, tired of that subject.

Lydia shrugged. "I'll get there. After a while, after seeing so many different kinds, the colors start to mean something... I'll get there."

"What's mine look like right now?"

Her lower lip trembled. She whispered: "Like you've got a shadow following you."

Stiles tensed. That knowing voice said: did she mean me or the little ghost?

Lydia's normal mirth returned and she didn't look crazy anymore. "Don't worry, little guardian," she said because she couldn't hear the voice inside his head. "It'll be okay."