Dolarhyde is dead.
Black blood covers Will, covers Hannibal, and they stumble together.
"See?" Hannibal asks, and he does. "This is all I ever meant for you, Will," Hannibal says softly. He drags in a breath. "For both of us."
They could have been wonderful. Murder husbands, Freddie said, and it has never been more true.
The dragon is dead, and taking a life had never felt better, Will and Hannibal engaged in their own dance around the beast.
A dance coming into its final moments of choreography.
"It's beautiful," Will answers, and it is, both of them bloody and torn but finding the broken pieces in each other. He tightens his arms as his legs begin to weaken, wrapping one around Hannibal's neck, caressing, loving as never before, and with his last burst of strength Will turns and they fall, arms wrapped desperately around each other and lips just touching, what could have been the beginning turning out as the end.
The kiss lasts mere seconds, but to Will, it is an eternity of what he always wanted and never could have.
They hit the water as one.
So I have powered my way through Hannibal instead of revising (bad me, sorry exams, ah well and worth it) and while at some point over the summer when I get back to regular writing I probably will think of a long one instead if this very short one-shot for now this is my reaction to the finale of Hannibal ... and I do of course firmly ship Hannigram.
For my readers of HiPS / SoT, I have half-written chapters - I have only a week and a half of exams left (and thank you to all who wished me luck in them :) ) so updates are imminent ...