Tim Drake knew he wasn't the best Robin. He knew that. He knew Dick was more graceful, flexible, faster, made everything look easy. He knew Jason was stronger, more determined, brutal and fierce. Tim knew he wasn't like them....and yet...he wanted to be more like them. He would do anything to be more like the, Train, stop eating, he even gave up all the sleep he could just to be like them. To finally fill the boots of Robin that seemed far too big. No one notices as he burns himself dry until a motorcycle crash. "Why is everyone better than me?"

Robins don't have asthma. They don't. It's a fact. Because running around the streets of Gotham, getting thrown into freezing cold waters, beaten up by criminals, and chasing down peeps, required breathing. A lot of it. And whipping out an inhaler mid fight to take a drag like he's a chain smoker was so not an option. So when Tim Drake finds out he has asthma he knows one thing for certain. "Under any circumstances, don't tell Bruce." Because then, for his own safety and blah blah blah, Bruce would bench him so hard Tim's butt would have whiplash. And Tim could handle this! Because breathing, it's notorious for being easy. Literal babies did it. So Tim Drake could figure out how to do both. And he could handle this, thank you very much. OR////// Tim develops asthma and hides it from Batman and the other vigilantes. It's going so well! (Not.)