Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. All of the characters and dialogue from Newsies referenced in this story belong to Disney and not to me.

A/N: As I contemplate my own limitations and the conditions of loved ones who struggle with chronic handicaps, unchangeable circumstances, and debilitating weaknesses, I am struck by how much strength is required to simply keep going. Often, the challenge lies not in one big obstacle to overcome, but rather in the relentless confrontation of little trials that can erode one's determination and chip away at the soul. In these circumstances, bravery takes on the form of simply showing up and choosing, minute by minute, to stay in the fight and not give up, whether the challenge is something as obvious as a physical limitation or something as hidden as crippling anxiety.

And so, this is written in admiration and support of those who quietly fight their battles one day at a time, bravely choosing to endure - because this in and of itself is a victory.

Fortitude

There were mornings where the pain was so intense he didn't think he would be able to stand. He'd rub his leg briskly, trying to ward off the stiffness brought on by the morning's chill, while simultaneously trying to knead away the growing dread that pooled in his empty stomach. What if, one day, he couldn't rub the feeling back? Even the partial, temporary paralysis of these cold mornings was alarming; the thought of it becoming permanent was absolutely terrifying. This thought often threatened to overwhelm him, when the urge to succumb to the numbness in his leg and in his heart was heavy.

But this morning, as he'd done on countless other mornings, he pushed himself into a standing position, gritting his teeth against the pain. One day, he might wake up to find he could no longer walk. But today would not be that day. Today he would stand. Today he would walk.

So he did.

And his fortitude inspired hope.

Resolution

Each night he lay in bed and wondered if he'd said too much (or too little), replaying the day's conversations back in his head, picking them apart piece by piece. Words were his gift and his undoing, his redemption and his downfall. He rarely spoke without thinking, but still often feared that he'd spoken amiss. Yet it was impossible for him to keep quiet. He hated it, sometimes. He told himself that he would stop, that everything would be better if he just stayed silent. Because what good did his wordiness do, anyway?

But it was an inextricable part of him, and no matter how many times he agonized over it, he couldn't imagine who he'd be without it. (Somewhere inside he knew that he wasn't meant to be without it). So, each night, he took a deep breath, told himself to relax, and did his best to calming his racing thoughts, letting sleep come and take with it the anxieties of the day. And each morning, as he greeted his brothers anew, he pushed aside his nervousness.

He let the words come.

And his resolution galvanized a movement.

Tenacity

The inexplicable urge to run and never look back waxed and waned like the moon. Some days, it was a barely discernible sliver of thought in the back of his mind, effortlessly disguised and easily ignored. Other days, he felt that if he didn't grab hold of the nearest immovable object, he would find himself halfway out of town before he even knew what his feet were doing. It was like an instinct, raw and relentless, pulling at him like the way the moon pulled at the sea, and it roared within him with a noise that at times was deafening.

But he fought it. He tethered himself to his brothers. To his friends. To the plucky reporter who'd all but promised that she'd be by his side, no matter how far he tried to run. They kept him grounded. It hurt to see the disappointment in their eyes when he slipped, when he let the overwhelming urge to run bleed into his words and skew his actions. But he always let them bring him back. It would have been so easy to give in, to turn away so that he would never have to see the discouragement in their eyes again. But he knew that if he did that, no other place he found himself in would ever be home.

So, he stayed.

And his tenacity made a way for a band of imperfect brothers to truly become a family.

A/N: This didn't come out exactly the way I wanted, but it was on my heart tonight, so I just went with it. Thank you for reading! If you are struggling with anything, whether you think it's significant or not, I hope you found a tiny bit of encouragement from this as you continue to face the challenges in front of you with the perseverance and endurance required for each day.