//------------------------------//
// Kindred Spirits 
// Story: Survivors 
// by Redcoat 
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A new day affords new chances! Or so Love Craft tried to tell herself. Why shouldn't she believe it? Everypony she passed on her errands were friendly enough. The grocer packing her bags gave her a quick smile and an extra apple. The seamstress she picked up her saddlebags from was polite, only hesitating ever so slightly as she took the bits from Love Craft's hoof. Why, the Librarian even let her check out an extra book that day! Even if she felt just a little rushed out of the library. Even if the glances she felt as she walked by felt just a little suspicious.
It was all in her head, she'd convinced herself. They were just curious why a talented unicorn like herself would carry her basket in her mouth, or carry bits with her hooves. That's all, nothing more. She was sure of it.
A shrieking crowd of foals whisked past her, trying with all their might to make it to school before the bell. Most avoided her with practiced ease, these were, after all, those foals with a tendency to sleep in. But one was less skilled and ran head first into her legs, nearly bowling her over. She tried consoling herself with the fact that the child wasn't a unicorn even as a bruise started to form on her knee.
The foal's breath hitched in its throat, trapping the apology there. What was that look for? Did she have something on her face? She offered a hoof to help it up, but the foal scrabbled up and away, crying out for its friends to slow down. Love Craft watched it run off, a strange mix of emotions running the gamut through her heart. She shook her head. She didn't have time to wonder, she needed to get home in time for her appointment.
She kicked the door closed behind her as she entered her home. Well, her parent's home. Even after a year of searching it seemed that every apartment, house, or room to let was either already taken, waiting a safety inspection, or 'goodness me, I don't need the bits that badly.' (Never aloud of course, but she had better hearing than most ponies suspected.) She was lucky to have such understanding parents, she told herself. She didn't hold it against the local land lords though. After all, there wasn't anypony in Equestria who could afford the security deposit she'd warrant.
A glance at the clock told her she had just enough time to put on a kettle before the social worker came. She liked to think she'd gotten to know Field Work over the past year, that they could just chat over a cup of tea. That maybe they were friends? She didn't want to overstep her bounds though... The kettle whistled as a knock was heard on the door. 
Love Craft turned down the stove and answered the door. Her parents were out of the house. The usually gave her privacy with her worker, telling her it gave them an excuse to go on a date. Love Craft thought it was sweet, if not a little suspicious. She greeted Field Work with a smile and ushered him into the living room. He was a solidly build blue Pegasus  with the kind of jaw that gave him a perpetual frown. He kept his chestnut mane short and his mustache neatly clipped. He placed his hat on the coffee table along with a few folders he had brought in his wings.
Love Craft offered him a cup and he took it with an expression she couldn't read. He'd claimed that he enjoyed tea, but even the result of her best efforts after a year of practice was met with a stiff upper lip and furrowed brows. He finished the cup in a single draft. "Delicious." He said with a sigh, though Love Craft wasn't sure if she believed him. She sipped at her own cup, watching him with only the slightest tension as he looked through his files then turned his gaze on her.
His eyes were narrow from birth, she knew. Flat and fish like since his childhood, from too many comic books he claimed. Nothing to do at all with how he felt about her, though that didn't stop her from breaking out in a cold sweat. His eyes were accusatory in her sight, and she could think of no arguments or justifications to defend herself with.
"So," he began, breaking her from her quickly spiraling thoughts. "it's been about a month, 'asn't it? How've you been Love?" Ah, there it was. Probably the only reason he hadn't been fired from his position with such severe features. His voice was deep and strong, rolling over her like a bank of clouds in the hot desert sun. She relaxed her tense posture before answering.
"Great! I've been great! Everypony's still so kind to me, even after I, uh, well, you know. And I just know a room will open up soon, so I'll be on my then too! Life's been, um, great!" Field Work listened with a nod, pouring himself another cup as he did. 
"I suppose that means you've found ya'self a job in that case, if you're so ready to move out of ya parent's flat?" He ended the sentence as a question, which struck Love Craft as unfair. What should have been a pleasant comment instead turned interrogative. 
"Nnnnno, not yet," She tried to sound casual. "But I've been talking around town, and a few of the shop keepers look like they need a new hoof, so once they put up their signs I'll be the first through the door!" Field Work gave her a look over his third (Fourth?) Cup of tea, but didn't say anything.
"And what about the nightmares?" He asked far more casually than she'd been able to. She cursed herself. Why'd she ever brought up those dreadful dreams of hers? She'd only mentioned them once before, months back, but now he was hounding her about them every visit. He claimed it was a directive straight from Princess Luna, that he had to follow up on any matters pertaining to sleep and the activities thereof. Love Craft wasn't sure if she believed him, but she could hardly refuse to answer him.
"They're, uh, um..." Her mind was racing, trying to come up with an excuse to change the subject or a convincing enough lie, but she knew he'd pick up on any deceptions. His face didn't betray the fact, but she knew.
He didn't interject, didn't try to finish her sentence. She'd have had an easier time if he did, but something she'd learned about Field Work was that he wasn't interested in making things easy for her. The room had fallen into an awkward silence with Love Craft floundering for something to say that wouldn't spawn more uncomfortable questions and Field Work more than content to sip on his tea and wait for her attempt.
"They're... Okay. Not as vivid as they used to be."
"But still there?"
"...Yyyyes... Sometimes." All the time actually, sometimes as often as four times in a week. Field Work knew she was lying. Being a Pegasus didn't mean he was a feather-brain, even if some of the other guys at work thought so. Having a daughter of his own meant he could tell when a filly was hiding something. He emptied his cup and set it down next to empty pot before considering his words.
"First off, I want you to know I know yer lying." Love Craft knew that he knew she was lying, and Field Work knew that she knew that he knew she was lying, but neither pressed the issue. "Second off, if those night time bogeys are so bothersome, maybe you should see a real thera-"
"No! No, no it's not that bad! A few sleepless nights won't stop me from being a normal, functional member of society!"
Field Work sighed. "You do realize that according to regulations, I should have reported these nightmares to Princess Luna months, don't you? There comes a point where nightmares turn to nightterrors. It's a wonder her majesty hasn'a found your specters on her own!"
Love Craft stared guiltily at her hooves but offered no reply. Field Work's face softened, even if that essentially meant it went from granite to concrete. Then a thought occurred to him, something of a flash o' brilliance, if anypony had bothered to ask him. He rummaged though the pile of folders that sat on the coffee table before finding the pamphlet he'd been searching for.
"Here love, take a look at this." He said, offering her the brightly colored brochure. She turned it over in her hooves, looking at the almost childish drawing of a group of ponies, all different colors and races, smiling and holding hooves under an equally cheerful crescent moon, its long nose impaling a fluffy, optimistic looking cloud.
There wasn't much in the way of information in it, just the other half of the picture, a location, time, set of dates, and then finally the name of the anonymous(?) group.
"Kindred Spirits?"