✔️ Only I Can Feel You | Hannigram | Rye Ambrose

31

This is the last chapter, dears! It's so surreal that this fic is finally at an end... I hope you enjoy!

A steady beep flowed through Will's ears, the same tone, same pitch, same pace.

    Beep...

    The blackness of his mind seemed to stir, his body still a far away shell that floated in the recesses of the void.

Beep... beep...

    The doctor gazed at the monitor, finishing up his scrawls on the clipboard before turning away, the door clicking shut behind him and leaving Will alone.

            Beep... beep...

    A gust of wind blew through the room, and the light-blue curtains fluttered. Hannibal's heels gently clicked on the polished floor as he appeared from thin air, standing at the foot of Will's hospital bed.

    He stared through blank eyes, examining Will's still frame in silence. His wings rustled behind him, curling and folding out of existence. His eyes trailed down Will's form, and they lingered at the bandage around his torso, white and new yet still spotted with splotches of red, viscid blood.

    Hannibal shifted in place, sighing softly.

    "Had you not called," he whispered quietly, gazing at Will's features, "we would be happy. Together, Will."

    He glanced at the monitor, which pulsed the air with each and every one of Will's heartbeats. Hannibal swallowed, and his hands grew cold, fingertips edging with midnight black.

    A gust of wind rushed behind him, and Hannibal stopped, gazing over his shoulder and meeting eyes with another Deathbringer.

    The stranger approached carefully, slowly, tall heels clicking against the floor and sinewy hips moving as he neared Hannibal.

    "Azmaveth," he greeted, voice an echo—still not fully developed for the mortal realm. His yellow eyes glimmered, black slits coiling. "I've been looking for you."

    "Moran," greeted Hannibal softly, gazing at him as he joined his side.

    Moran's snake-like eyes gazed at Will's body, and Hannibal felt a surge of protectiveness.

    "News spreads fast," said Moran, pulling his gaze from the human and towards his Higher. His black horns glinted under the dull hospital lights. "We heard that you killed Will Graham. Finally."

    Hannibal's eyes narrowed, and Moran stepped closer, sharp heels leaving marks in the floor.

    "So tell me," breathed the Deathbringer, yellow eyes glowing, "why he's still alive."

    Hannibal stared at Moran calmly, his brows knitted in the slightest.

    "There were too many humans," said Hannibal. "You know the code."

    Moran bristled, and he bared his teeth, fangs peering from his thin lips. His bat-like wings spread in the slightest. "When Mortifico orders you to do something," he hissed, "you do it. Code or not, his word is law."

    Hannibal made no movement, and Moran continued.

    "As his son," spat the Deathbringer, "you should be the paragon of his word." His eyes glimmered with distaste. "Your disobedience is disrupting order in the Legacy."

    "Be careful," said Hannibal quietly, his eyes glinting, "what you say to your future leader."

    Moran hesitated, and he hissed, glaring at him. "Mortifico is intensely displeased," he growled. Moran glanced over at Will's silent figure on the bed. "He tells me—that should Will Graham's breath still exist upon this realm—you will be executed."