Title: What the wind sings about
Author: Petite Etoile
Russian Beta: Alenka
Translation: dinnchik
English Beta: WANTED
Rating: R
Paring: Mac/Danny
Genre: Romance
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.

I. Danny's POV

I hate spring. No, I don't mind its coming; after all it is followed by summer. I guess I should make it more exact. I hate early spring. When the snow starts melting it is impossible to walk in the streets, there is mud everywhere. And then, out of nowhere, various maniacs appear. I don't know why, but they do. Those nuts always spring up in spring, like mushrooms.
Not just common loonies. But some freaks, morally depraved persons so to say. Always wondering how the earth can bear them. One sewed clothes from the victims' skin. Another collected the victims' eyes and kept them in some gallipots.

Psychologists maintain that early spring arouses the feelings of despondency and anxiety in people of unsteady mentality. That's because of winter coming to the end and that gray sky above our heads turns blue gradually but the rest of the world remains obscure and dull. People feel depressed and insipid.

But this year I wait impatiently for the spring to come. I don't know why. Just wanna go out and look at the sky and smile. That's funny; I have no grounds for being happy these days. Still all I want is to forget about my worries, put on the head-phones with my favorite music on, take away the gun and the badge and stroll light-heartedly about the streets humming after the song. Only a simple desire to a child again. The time when every new season is regarded as a miracle. The time when you know what you will become. The time when everything is possible. The time when you know what the wind sings about.

II. Mac's POV

I like spring. I guess there is nothing unusual about that. Spring is the time of hope, the time of love. After all I went through, I want to hope. To hope for the best. Despite everything one should live. It's been for five years since I lost the one I loved more that the life. I thought I won't be able to fall in love again. I felt like someone had torn out my heart and put some piece of ice instead. It was freezing me from the inside, preventing me from living.
I understood I should live. But understanding wasn't enough. I wanted to feel, but I could not. I didn't want just exist, but there were no strength to resist. And then suddenly I found the meaning of life. Funny, but it happened in spring. He just flew into my life like a breeze. He was strong and helpless at the same time. His childish perception of the world mixed with his hard childhood. This mixture was like champagne, rushed straight to the head. A tough nut, he always went through somebody else's grief like his own.

Sometimes at nights, when I sit by the window, I want him to be beside me. I want to embrace him. I want just hold him close and never let go. I want to hide him from the cruelty of this world. To protect.

I sigh quietly and look out on the street. It is still cold, but I can feel it in the air. The spring is coming. At such kind of nights I wonder what the wind sings about.

III. The Wind

I don't like cities. Their huge buildings always hinder me. I have my own aim no one knows about. And it shows up in springs. Yes, I bring the sensation of the rebirthing nature. I bring the sensation of happiness. But that's not the main thing. I climb under people's coats and agitate their feelings. That is very difficult especially after winters. Everyone's so withdrawn. They don't see that the time has come. And I sing them about it. Quietly, softly-softly, carefully. After all you can't push them – in such cases they start jibbing. So I had to explain them again every year, what it is happiness. But only those who understand it want to know what the wind sings about.