I'm not that good a writer. There are so many people in this fandom that could have done a better job at writing an alternative ending than me. But the actual ending infuriated me so much that I couldn't not try and fix it in some way. This, therefore, is an attempt to try and mend my broken Stendan feels. Hope it helps some of yours as well! I haven't had time to edit it so sorry for any mistakes!
Brendan picks up the phone.
"Bren? Brendan, are you okay? Answer me! I've just heard gunshots from inside the club, I was about to phone the police! What's going on?" Ste's voice, fast and frantic, babbles down the phone.
Some of the tension drains from Brendan's body. Just hearing Steven's voice is enough to calm him, no matter the circumstances. Besides, getting the chance to talk to him one last time before he sacrifices his life to save his sister feels like a blessing. Steven will be his last thought, he knows it.
"Steven." His voice is rough, Ste's name like a prayer. He looks over at Cheryl who is still sobbing and rocking slightly on the club's stairwell and attempts to harden his voice. He needs to do this. He can't let her down. "Steven, I need you to phone the police."
"What? Why? Are you okay? What's going on Brendan?"
Brendan's heart breaks slightly at the desperation he can hear in Steven's voice. He knows what he needs to do; the plan is already forming in his brain. He knows that the only way to save his sister's life is to sacrifice himself. But damn it all to hell if he doesn't want a life for himself as well. A life with Steven. A life where they have a future. A life where he can tell him that everything will be okay and actually mean it. But nothing is going to be okay again.
Brendan takes a deep breath to fortify himself. He knew that letting Steven go would never be easy. No matter how his life ended – death, prison (it doesn't matter, they're both the end of him) – this was the last moment of freedom and Steven he would get. Be he can't let himself bask in it or he'll never be able to do what he needs to. "You need to listen to me, Steven."
He looks over at his baby sister, the girl he spent his entire life trying to protect, the woman who had just shot her father to protect him. He needs to save her more than anything. Steven would be fine without him; he was always far too good to be tethered to someone as broken as Brendan anyway. Besides, he was already falling back into bad habits. He couldn't trust himself not to hurt Steven again, no matter how much he loves him. So it works out in everyone's favour if he is the one to take the fall. Saving his loved ones was a far better ending than he could have expected anyway. It's a good death, better than he deserves.
"I've just killed my Da. You need to phone the police."
The plan practically writes itself. Steven would tell the police there had been a shooting. Armed police would arrive. He'd empty the remaining bullets from the chamber, confess to his various sins, take aim at the police and wait for the inevitable. One way or another he would end. It might even be quick. He might not feel a thing.
There was silence from Ste's end of the phone. And then, calmly, "Let me in, Brendan."
"No!" The reply is automatic, instinctive. He knows that if Steven asks him to not sacrifice himself, he won't. But he needs to protect Cheryl. "I don't want you getting messed up in this, Steven. Just phone the police."
"If you think I'm doing anything without seeing you face to face then you're a bigger idiot than I thought." Ste's voice is biting. "I'm coming up the stairs now. You're going to open the door and we are going to sort this out."
"There is nothing to sort out!" Brendan roars. He needs to keep Steven away. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Cheryl start slightly before her sobs pick up at an even louder volume. "There is nothing to sort out, Steven." He continues in a quieter tone of voice. "I'm a murderer. You can't protect me. Just phone the police and then this will all be over with."
Ste's sarcastic laugh fills his ears. "You've been a murderer for far longer than today and we both know it. I'm outside the door. Let. Me. In." Loud bangs echo through the club as Ste's fist pounds on the door in time with his words.
Brendan draws in a shuddering breath. The boy is too stubborn by half. "Don't you hear yourself? I'm toxic. I've just killed my father. I'll probably hurt you again. Everyone's better off if you'd just phone the police like I've asked you to!"
The thuds at the door become more insistent. "Fuck you Brendan." Ste's voice is hard. "Fuck you if you think I'm better off without you. Fuck you if you genuinely think I can walk away from you. I'm not leaving. So unless you want everyone in the village to see me then you'd better let me the fuck in." A louder bang reverberates around the club as Ste's foot collides with the door.
"Jesus!" Brendan hangs up his phone and all but runs to the door, unlocking the bolt and pulling it quickly open. "Fucking hell, Steven. What the hell-"
Brendan is cut off abruptly by Ste elbowing his way past him forcefully. As soon as he is safely in the club, Brendan takes a moment to glance around the empty village furtively before re-locking the door.
When he turns, Steven is frozen behind him. His gaze is flickering between Seamus' dead body lying on the floor and Cheryl who is still hysterically sobbing on the stairs. His shoulders are tense and Brendan wants to reach out and soothe him, but he keeps his arms to himself, tucking them under his armpits.
After a minute he turns to face Brendan, his eyes blazing. He has the same strength in his eyes that he had in Dublin, as they destroyed his Da's pub. Brendan wishes they had never left the perfect bubble that they had created for themselves in Ireland. They could have been incredible. "Tell me everything." His voice is hard and demanding, only the slight wobble of his lip giving away his fear.
"What do you want me to say, Steven? Eh? My Da abused me and so I shot him in the back. There's nothing else to it." He is flippant, dismissive. Steven needs to see him as cold and heartless for his plan to work.
(he doesn't want his plan to work)
"No." Ste looks Brendan straight in the eyes. "No, I know you, Bren. You wouldn't kill your Dad in your own club with Cheryl here. Tell me the truth!"
"That is the truth! You know I'm a murderer, Steven. You know what I'm capable of." He gestures to Steven's battered face and the guilt consumes him. "What makes you think I wouldn't kill the sick fuck that abused me?" He breaks off, his breathing harsh. "You need to leave. You need to phone the police and tell them that you heard gunshots. Whatever happens, I'll be gone for life, Steven. You need to move on. I'm no good for you, not anymore."
Cheryl stands up abruptly. Brendan had been so caught up in Steven that he'd almost forgotten she was here. "No, Bren." She whispers. "I'm not letting you do this." She turns to Steven, her body trembling. "I did it, Ste. It was me. I shot him. I didn't mean to, I just came in and… he was standing over Bren and the gun was in my hands and I didn't mean to…" her voice trails off as the tears start falling again. She looks broken.
Brendan's entire body twitches violently. "No, Chez. No. I killed him. You walked in and saw me stood over the body with a gun in my hands. You had nothing to do with this. Nothing." His voice is firm. She needs to let him do this for her. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if his baby sister went to prison because of him. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he wasn't delusional. He knew this was all his fault.
"I can't let you do this, Bren. I can't." Cheryl's voice trembles. "I'm the one that killed him. I'm the one that deserves prison."
"No! You've got your entire life in front of you. I am not letting you throw that away!"
"Will you both just shut up!" Ste's voice cuts through the argument swiftly. "Are you seriously arguing over which one of you is going to go to prison for the murder of a disgusting paedophile that abused Brendan? Really?" He looked between them incredulously. "We've been here for ages. No one has turned up. No one has phoned. No one but me heard the gun. So why are you both being so fucking stupid? No one is going to prison. No one."
Cheryl's face crumples. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Ste says slowly, "where are we going to hide the body?"
Brendan looks at him in surprise. Steven's right; if someone had heard the shots then the police would be here by now. There's a chance they could get away from this. But that didn't mean he should get tangled up in Brendan's mess. "No, Steven, I'm not letting you get involved with this. This is not your problem."
"You're not letting me do anything," Ste snaps. "I am involved, so stop whinging and start thinking for once in your life. You must know somewhere to hide him. Although," Ste's mouth twitches, "considering you dumped a body in a pond you're not exactly a pro!"
A startled laugh forces its way out of Brendan's mouth. "This is no laughing matter, Steven!" He knows Steven is only joking to lighten the mood, and despite the darkness of the humour it is appreciated.
Cheryl looks as if she wants to ask about the pond but Ste raises a hand to stop her. "Not now, Cheryl. We need to deal with the body before morning."
Cheryl's eyes glaze over again at the mention of the body. She looks over to the fallen figure of her daddy, the man that she had loved her entire life and the man she had killed. The same man that had ruined her brother's life. It's all too much for her and she crumples to the floor, harsh sobs breaking their way out of her throat.
"Chez, hey, Chez," Brendan mutters, kneeling beside her and pulling her frame into him. "Go home. You don't need to be here. Steven's right, neither of us need to go down for this." There is relief in his voice. Relief that neither of them will lose their lives because of this. Relief that he might get to walk away from this with his family, free from the demon that his haunted him his entire life.
"I killed our daddy, Bren." Cheryl's face is puffy and red. "I deserve-"
"No, Chez. You didn't kill anyone. You saved me. You saw what he was going to do to me." Brendan draws in a shuddery breath. Even know, he cannot bear to think of that man. He's always going to be the one monster that Brendan could never defeat alone. "Thank you." He whispers. "When he… I froze. I wouldn't have been able to stop him. Thank you. Now, let me sort this. Please?"
After a few seconds, Cheryl nods slightly and pulls herself to her feet. Brendan jumps up next her.
"Thank you. Go home, try to sleep. Try and forget everything that happened tonight. I'll sort everything. Don't worry, we'll be fine. I promise, Chez." He swiftly kisses her on the forehead before ushering her towards the door of the club. She fumbles with the lock before yanking the door open and hurrying out into the night. She doesn't look back.
Brendan stands in the doorway, watching her go, his body practically vibrating with adrenalin. "You should leave too, Steven." He says quietly. "This isn't your problem."
Ste huffs behind him. "Just shut the door, Brendan."
Brendan sighs and mentally rues choosing to love someone so headstrong. It makes it damn near impossible to protect them. Reluctantly, he shuts the door and leans back against it. "I would have thought you'd hate me." He has every right to. Brendan hates himself.
Ste gives a sharp laugh, his features tight. "Look, Brendan. I'm furious with you right now. You're a complete idiot. You were going to get yourself arrested, or killed, without a thought for me at all. After everything we've been through, you were going to throw away our future, my future, for what?" He breathes out slowly, visibly trying to calm himself. "But we haven't got time for me to shout at you right now. We need to sort out getting rid of this thing," he toes Seamus' cold body roughly, "and then when everything has blown over, we'll have a chat about you making decisions which affect our lives without me." Ste's face is hard.
"I don't deserve you, Steven."
"No, you don't." Ste's reply is quick and made all the more emphatic by the cuts and bruises still evident on his face. "Luckily for you, people don't always get what they deserve. And I love you. So we're going to sort this and then we're going to get on with our future. After everything we've been through, we deserve that don't you think?"
Brendan finally allows himself to cross the room to Steven. He's the best thing about Brendan and if they get through this, if he gets this second (or hundredth) chance at a future with him, then Brendan vows to grasp it with both hands. His arms close around Steven, his face burying insistently into golden hair. Steven's arms wrap tightly around his waist, far stronger than they look. Brendan sometimes thinks they're the only things that are holding him together.
"I love you too, Steven," he murmurs. In a few moments they will be dealing with the corpse of his biggest demon, but right now he's at peace.