PROLOGUE:
DEATH'S RETURNING CLAWS
1897-1908

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AILSA WAS ONLY EIGHT years old when she helped deliver her first baby. Her sister's hair was a wispy shade of brown, like tree bark or the rich hazel of the earth's soil. Little Ada's hair was so thick that Ailsa could've braided it had she gotten close enough to try. Confused, she gaped at her mother, exclaiming in well-intended concern, "was she in there too long?"

Her mother -- a mousy-haired, doe-eyed woman who everyone said was Ailsa's twin in both appearance and heart -- and Aunt Pol -- who was on hand to assist her brother's wife in the birth of their fifth child together -- shared a tired laugh as Polly took the gurgling baby Ada over to the sink to be cleaned and wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Ailsa had helped Aunt Pol knit it when she predicted another girl would grace the family. It fit around Ada like a custom-made glove, and the rosy-cheeked baby sighed and went quiet in content.

She was undoubtedly a beautiful girl, and Ailsa was so excited to have a sister at long last, but she had so much hair, and Ailsa couldn't help but question if she was an alien disguised as a baby.

(Oh, the fears of an eight-year-old brain; irrational as they were terrifying. Poor Ailsa genuinely dreaded the thought of her sister being an alien...)

"It's completely normal for newborns to have hair, my love," her mother weakly reached out to caress Ailsa's flushed face. Instinctively, she leaned in to the touch, dabbing sweat off her mother's hairline with a fresh cloth. It was so warm in the kitchen. Ailsa wondered if Ada liked it, if the heat coming from the hearth reminded her of their mother. The Shelby matriarch was made of warmth and brightness; like a comforting hand bandaging wounds on a bad day, or a twinkling laugh on the good ones. "You'll see when you have a baby of your own someday."

At that, Ailsa's nose scrunched up in disgust. If witnessing childbirth for the first time hadn't scarred her for life, the thought of going anywhere near a boy was downright traumatising. Boys have cooties, Ails, Arthur's gruff voice had instilled in her from the moment they were old enough to walk and talk. It had always been her and Arthur, then their younger brothers, Tommy and John. Each pair was close in age and, at first, in temperament. If Arthur said to jump, Ailsa would ask how high. So if her big brother said boys were gross, Ailsa would take it as gospel.

Stubbornly shaking her head, she protested, "I'm never having a baby, mama." Her mother and Polly merely laughed and shared a smile. Ailsa's lower lip jutted out. "I mean it. Don't laugh."

"Okay, sweetheart," her mother sighed then, her eyes slowly slipping shut as sleep gave its call. "We believe you."

Twelve-years-later, Ailsa proved herself wrong.

In a moment of weakness, she'd disobeyed Arthur, and boy was she paying the price.

The whole of Small Heath could hear her screams. It was a wonder Polly hadn't arrived sooner. John had rushed off to find her in what Ailsa swore was a whole lifetime ago, leaving her in the care of Arthur, Tommy and a twelve-year-old Ada. Her younger sister was dabbing Ailsa's hairline with a cloth while Tommy was stuck holding her hand. He hadn't meant to get so close. But when he heard Ailsa screaming in fright in the kitchen, he was the first one down to check on her. Then came Arthur and John, then Ada, then a one-year-old Finn -- not that he was much help, of course. Arthur didn't hesitate to excuse himself to hold Finn, leaving Tommy no other option but the uncomfortable one.

"Okay, I can do this," Ada was murmuring over and over. She had checked to see how dilated Ailsa was, and her face had gone pale as she glanced up at the clock on the wall. Still no Polly. "How hard can it be?"

At that, Ailsa wailed and latched onto Tommy's shirt. She would've tried to shake sense into him had the agony not rooted her in place. "Where's Aunt Pol?" she sobbed. It hurt so bad. Like her whole body was burning, a slow and painful end. "Tommy, please, I need Aunt Pol."

"I'll go look, Tom," Arthur called frantically. He was already halfway out the door before Tommy could even think to go himself.

If anything, this only panicked Ailsa more.

A baby coming two months early. A husband away at work, not due to return until the evening. Her clueless nineteen-year-old brother, an oblivious baby playing by the hearth and her tween sister, who'd only seen one child born and passed out before Finn's head had even crowned.

Excusing her language, she was completely and utterly fucked.

Another sharp pain grew in her lower stomach. Like a serrated blade digging through flesh, or a hot branding iron scalding skin. Ailsa screamed until the breath left her lungs.

"Tommy, please."

"She's almost here," Ada warned, and Ailsa believed her.

"I need Aunt Pol, Tommy, please. I can't do this without her."

"Ails, you need to start pushing."

This time, Ailsa didn't even deign Ada with a response. She merely narrowed her eyes, gritted her teeth and squeezed Tommy's hand until he was sure bones cracked. Tommy grimaced and went to pull away, and much to his surprise, she let him. A bright smile suddenly tugged at the downturned corners of her mouth, and both Ada and Tommy were very much concerned until they, too, heard the unmistakeable command of Polly's voice out on the doorstep.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," their aunt took one look at the chaotic scene and muttered a brief prayer to God above. Quickly, she ushered Ada out of the way and kneeled with Ailsa's knees in front of her. Then, she raised an eyebrow at Tommy, who, despite Ailsa no longer holding his hand, was yet to run while he could. "You're going to help me, are you, Thomas?"

"Come on, brother," Arthur forced himself into the room to help a pale-faced Tommy stand. "Let's get you a drink, a strong one."

"And take Finn with you," Polly called.

Finn was quickly scooped up, and with a slam of the door, the boys were gone at last. Probably scarred for life, but Ailsa couldn't bring herself to care as she struggled to calm her breathing. Everything hurt, even her heart, and Ailsa had to wonder how her mother had done this not just once but six times.

No, Ailsa had learnt her lesson for not listening to Arthur.

One baby was more than enough for her.

"Okay, Ailsa, time to push."

"I told you so--"

"Ada," Polly silenced her with a glare. "Get over here and help me."

Afterwards, Ailsa couldn't quite describe the moment. It lingered in her head in flashes. Cold hands pressed against her stomach, the earth-splitting agony of her soul breaking in two. The ache in her heart was quick to fade then, and Ailsa understood, as Polly later pressed the squealing baby into her arms, that she'd give up anything for this girl. Her daughter. A little piece of her. Ailsa would give up her own heart, would rip it out of her chest if she had to. Blood, sweat and tears were nothing if it meant this feeling of love never faded.

"You did it," Ada was beaming as she rested her head on Ailsa's shoulder. As Polly cleaned up, the two sisters cooed down at the baby swaddled in a familiar pink blanket, her thick auburn hair glowing like pieces of fire in the dim light of the burning hearth. "You're a mum, Ails. And I'm an aunt."

"An aunt who has a baby to name," Ailsa murmured. Her eyes had started to flutter with the longing of sleep, but she forced them open at the babbling sound that fell past her daughter's lips. Carefully, she hushed her, the weight of her like the sky on Atlas' shoulders. "Well? What have you decided?"

"Faith," Ada declared with a surprising amount of certainty. "Faith, because I always had faith in you. Oh, and her middle name is Ada, after her favourite aunt."

Ailsa scoffed and Polly laughed, but something warm had settled in Ailsa's chest.

Faith Ada Buchanan-Shelby.

She couldn't wait until Henry got to see her.

Like magic had summoned him, a frantic knock nearly broke down the door. Henry didn't wait for someone to answer -- which he normally would have despite being married to Ailsa for several months -- instead racing in as fast as his feet would carry him. He took one look at the women gathered on the floor, the baby cradled against his wife's chest, and a radiant smile cut across his face.

"I came as soon as I heard," he managed to say through his pants. "Your brothers came into the Garrison, Ails, looking sick as anything. Harry gave me the afternoon off, thank God, but he wants me back tomorrow--"

"Henry!" Ailsa interrupted her husband with a fond laugh. He was always like that when he was nervous, rambling just to fill the silence. She'd grown to admire everything there was to love about him, including these little quirks, but on that day, she was tired and she just wanted him to meet his daughter. "Come meet Faith."

"Faith," he breathed her name like a prayer. Slowly, he kneeled where Tommy had been, and Polly ushered Ada into the hallway so the couple could have a second to themselves. "She's beautiful, love. Looks just like you."

"She has your hair," Ailsa pointed out, stubborn as ever.

But Henry was no longer listening. "Faith," he whispered again, and the baby cooed and fidgeted in her mother's arms. Instinctively, Ailsa handed her to Henry, and she immediately went quiet.

"Of course she likes you more than me," Ailsa scoffed. "I'm the one that pushed her out, and yet you have her wrapped around your finger!"

The moment was just perfect. In that instant, with Henry slowly rocking Faith, and her family's presence in every corner -- the history of her mother laying in this very spot, Ailsa knew she was there in some ways, watching as her first grandchild entered the world -- Ailsa was the happiest she'd ever been.

The happiest she would be for a very long time, not that she had known it then.

Ailsa would do anything to have that moment back, to feel complete again.

To give Faith the life she so desperately wanted.

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A/N: Welcome to Misery Business! It took me a lot longer than I wanted to write the prologue, but after several drafts, I think I've got something solid to set the scene. I know the time jumps and ages are a bit confusing, so below I've included each of the ages of the Shelby family (with some special additions) just to make it a bit easier to follow in later chapters. Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought <3

Henry Buchanan ― 1885
Arthur Shelby ― 1887
Ailsa Shelby ― 1889
Tommy Shelby ― 1890
John Shelby ― 1895
Ada Thorne (neè Shelby) ― 1897
Michael Gray ― 1903
Finn Shelby ― 1908
Faith Buchanan-Shelby ― 1909