A/N: I'm not quite sure what this is but I had to write something after Bradley's death and this came to be in the middle of a seminar yesterday. It's basically a collection of Stacey's thoughts as she reminisces on her death bed.

"Curtains," Stacey croaked, struggling to even raise a hand to gesture towards the window.

Her voice was hoarse, her throat dry and she spoke in little more than a whisper. She could remember how she used to spend her day shouting as she stood on the freezing cold market. Those days were far behind her now though.

Her eldest daughter Anna nodded, blinking furiously in an attempt to stop anymore tears forming, She made her way across the small bedroom and drew the curtains back to reveal the sun setting over the square. It was a beautiful sight. The sun cast a gentle glow over the small square, lighting up all the different buildings.

Stacey let out a contented sigh as she gazed out over the place that had been her home for the past 76 years. She had never been able to bring herself to leave Albert Square and instead had chosen to watch others come and go. This square was her life and it held so many memories for her, both happy and sad.

"How are you feeling mum?"

Lee, the baby of the family having been an unexpected pregnancy when Stacey was almost fifty, held her hand tightly as he sat beside her bed. She could tell he was desperately trying to stop himself from crying and she gave him a small smile, unable to formulate enough energy to talk properly. She wanted to tell him that she was not scared of dying, that she was ready and it would all be okay, but speaking just seemed like too much effort now. Instead she stroked his hands with her own.

She was a frail old woman of 91 and she knew that she was close to the end. When her mum had died, she had told her that her time was coming and Stacey had not been able to understand it. Her mum had been ill for so long. How could she possibly have known that she was about to die? Now she understood though. It was just a feeling, a feeling that she would soon be gone.

"I love you mum," Anna said, appearing at her side and kissing her gently on the forehead.

Her daughter was beautiful. Stacey had watched her grow from the small girl that loved to spend her day helping fold clothes in the laundrette into a rebellious teenage girl that reminded Stacey so much of herself. And then she had grown into a young woman that she was so proud of. She had become a teacher and every Friday she would call her up to hear her tales of the events in the classroom that past week. She had fallen in love, gotten married and had a baby boy, Sam – Stacey's first grandchild. And now she sat beside her, almost 60 years old and still as gorgeous as ever. It made her heart ache that she had played any part in creating something so wonderful. When she had been born, she had been so scared that she would go wrong and be a terrible parent. She had feared dropping her, feeding her the wrong things, not teaching her the right things. But they had made their way through the consumption of mud pies and multiple evenings trying to learn the times tables. It had all been so worth it.

As Anna talked to her, telling her about Sam's new job, she thought of her other daughter. Ellie had always been the complete opposite of Anna and had inherited Stacey's fiery spirit. When she was 21 she had moved to Australia to 'find herself' and was still there now. She lived the life that Stacey sometimes wished that she had had the chance to live.

Not that she regretted staying on the Square. She had loved living here. Though there were moments that she would still give the world to change.

She gently stroked her wedding rings with her thumb, feeling the cool metal against her warm skin. She could vividly remember the day that Mark had placed the ring onto her finger in the small church. It was only weeks after her 32nd birthday and they had had a tiny ceremony. Charlie had passed away a year before and her mum was too ill to attend at the time, however much she had wanted her there. But it had been enough. Mark had been an amazing husband throughout their marriage. He had chased her from the moment he met her, fighting to break through her hard exterior and ignoring every rejection she gave him. It had taken her a long time to even give him a chance when even thinking about going on a date with him had felt like a betrayal. But eventually she had given in, after her mum had told her that he would want her to be happy. And it was a decision she never truly regretted. They had been blessed with three wonderful children and they had been happy. He had cared for her and loved her so much. Even after twenty years of marriage, he still looked at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He made her feel special and she adored him for that.

It had devastated her when he had died suddenly of a heart attack at only 55. She could remember receiving the phone call from the hospital to tell her that he had died and she had collapsed on the floor in tears. She had cried throughout his funeral and it took her weeks to pack his things away in the house. A picture of him still stood on the bedside table.

"Dad was your soulmate wasn't he?" Lee said with a small smile as he caught her looking over at the picture of his father. "You were so happy."

There was something ironic in Lee being the one to say that. Mark had never asked why she had chosen the name Lee and she had never bothered to divulge the real reason, simply telling him that she had spotted the name in a baby book. But that was not the truth and part of her had a feeling he had always known that. She would have always found it too strange to name her own son Bradley but Lee, Lee was close enough for her.

The coolness of another wedding band made her shiver slightly as it brushed against her skin. Stacey had always worn two rings around her neck – her wedding band that Bradley had placed on her finger on that fateful day and the one that she had placed on his. They were as close to her heart as they could possibly be. They had enchanted each of her children when they were little, grabbing for them as they dangled from her neck, glinting in the sunlight. She never removed them, not even now after all these years. It had pained her enough to remove her wedding ring from her finger; she would never have been able to give it up completely.

She closed her eyes for a moment and an image of Bradley floated into her mind. It was a simple one. They were lying in bed and he was lying on his side just looking at her. There was a smile on his face that made her feel weak inside and he was looking at her like there was no one else in the world. Every tiny bit of love that he felt for her was clear in his eyes. It was an image she had never forgotten.

"Mum?" Anna said, shaking her slightly, and her eyes fluttered open again.

It was almost as if she could feel her heartbeat slowing and she knew she was so close to the end now.

She clutched her daughter's hand in one hand and her son's in the other. She thought of Ellie who was probably fast asleep on the other side of the world right now. And she pictured two other people stood at the end of the bed. Side by side stood a woman with red hair that cascaded down her back and to her right was a man smiling brightly. She knew who they were without even thinking. She had pictured them time and time again, watching them grow up over the years into the people they were now. The woman was the child that her and Bradley could have had, the child that had at one time been growing inside of her. And the man was the baby that had changed her whole future, the baby she had believed to be Archie's. She could still remember the pain she had felt when she realised that he was dead and the agony of having to deliver him. She had screamed as she pushed him out of her and then there had only been silence, no cry of a newborn baby. Bradley and her had planned to raise him together and instead she had lost them both.

But now both of the children she had lost were with her, smiling at her and she knew that they would be waiting for her on the other side.

Her heart seemed to slow even more and her breathing became shallower. Her gaze drifted to the window again and she focused on the imposing building that stood opposite the house. It still made her heart ache as she remembered looking up at Bradley's shout to see him balancing precariously on the roof. The image was still so vivid now, even though it had been almost seventy years ago. His fall had been so fast and he fell like he weighed nothing. She could remember his arms flailing in the air and he had not even had time to scream before it was over. Then a distraught scream had ripped through the air. It had taken her a moment to realise that that terrible sound had come from her. The police had held her back and she had fought desperately against them, only wanting to hold Bradley and to make him be all right.

The sight of him lying on the wet ground in a pool of blood still made her feel nauseous now. He had been so still and pale and she had just wanted to shake him awake. He was supposed to have been celebrating their wedding and getting ready for their honeymoon, not being chased by police and lying dead on the street.

She did not regret marrying Mark. She did not regret having her children. She did not regret never moving away from the Square. But her one regret was those months. She would give the world to change them. There were nights where she dreamt that she was stood on the square, watching herself on Christmas Day. She would stand and watch herself walking towards the Vic. She screamed for herself to turn around, to just go back to singing with her family. But her shouts were never heard and instead she watched as her 22 year-old self disappeared into the pub, sealing her fate. There were nights she woke up screaming in pure desperation to stop herself. No matter how much she shouted though, it would not make any difference. She had pushed that bust down onto Archie as he knelt on the floor and she had heard the sickening crack it had made as it collided with him. She had killed him and she had…she had ultimately caused Bradley to be on that roof.

She felt her eyes fighting to close and she struggled against them, wanting to hold on for just one more moment. She had loved Mark. He had been the perfect husband. But she could never call him her soulmate, however much she sometimes wished she could. She had been married to Mark for twenty years and yet Bradley always held her heart though she had only known him for four years. She knew that there were times that Mark must have looked at her and seen that she never quite loved him as much as he loved her. But he never showed it. Instead he cared for her and loved her with all of his heart. He had been such a good man, probably too good for her, and a part of her felt she should have given him the chance to find someone who could love him as much as he deserved. But she was selfish and she had never been able to let go of their relationship, even if she did not love him as much as she should have.

She was getting too weak to keep her eyes open and she glanced at her son and daughter one last time before looking over to the Vic again.

She had lost Bradley when they had their whole lives in front of them and she would have given anything to get him back. But the time they had spent together had been time that she had never forgotten. An old woman and she could still picture him clearly, could still remember his voice. There had been times where she walked down the street and she would smell someone wearing his aftershave and a million memories would come rushing back.

That was why she had never been able to leave the Square when it came down to it. Though there were tragic memories there, there were also too many good memories to leave behind. Every part of it held a different memory for her that she clung to throughout the years. The bench where they had sat and eaten chips, watching TV through Dot and Jim's window; the old Slater house where they had spent so much time; the market where he would always come and visit her on his lunch breaks, even when it was freezing cold. Every part of the Square reminded her of Bradley and she could never leave it all behind. He may have been gone but his memory still lived on and she could not abandon that.

As she watched the sun disappearing down behind the Vic and quiet bird song filled the room, she hoped her children would honour her last request. They knew about Bradley but she was not sure they had ever realised just how much he meant to her. No child wanted to think of their mum loving someone more than their own father. But in her will she had requested that they bury her beside Bradley. She knew that they would probably protest but it was not as if their father had a grave for her to be buried beside. His ashes had been scattered in a park behind his childhood home, like he had always wanted. She had spent so many years apart from Bradley and she wanted nothing more than to be laid to rest beside him for all of eternity.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt her children's hold tighten upon her hands. As she took her last breath, she pictured Bradley in her mind, the way he had looked at her as she had slowly woken up, so in love with her.

Exactly seventy years had passed from the moment that Bradley Branning had fallen to his death at only 22 to the moment that Stacey Dawson, the love of his life, took her last breath at the age of 91. And yet, as she died, the love she felt for him was just as strong as it had been all those years ago and it was him that she saw as her heart stopped beating.

All who walked through the cemetery and happened to glance at Stacey's grave would see she was a loving wife, mother and grandmother who would be dearly missed by all who knew her. It would be few, if any, who would make the connection between 'Bradley Branning. Loving husband to Stacey' and the Stacey Dawson who was buried in the grave beside his. But those who did would not be able to imagine the tragic story of the two lovers. Instead they would only see a husband and wife who died on the same day, seventy years apart, finally reunited in death.