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To Janet Drake, her 3-year-old son’s imaginary friend didn't sound as insignificant as she wanted it to be.
Janet knew very well what a soul mentor was and how they presented to their living host. They were much more common around Gotham than the rest of the world and Janet was too well-integrated into the gossip circles of the city’s elite to not have heard extensive stories about them. While some accounts seemed more outlandish than others, one fact stuck throughout them all: the presence of a soul mentor foretold a life full of hardship and uncertainty. That didn't make sense when it came to young Timothy, the same young Timothy who was her son, who slept in the softest silk sheets, who dressed in the finest clothes a boy his age could dress in, who would soon have the best tutors Janet could find and who would grow up heir to a company and a fortune. Sure, there was responsibility to be seen in his life, but nothing so gruesome as to warrant a need for divine guidance.
“You sure are becoming superstitious as you age!” her husband laughed at her one night, well past the boy’s bedtime. Jackson Drake had never gotten the appeal for gossip the wat she had. “He’s only three, Janet! His imagination is acting up, he’ll forget this little friends eventually.”
But she wasn’t so sure. She had skimmed a parenting book once, a couple of years back, looking through the optimal development pace of a child. She had come across the characteristics of imaginary friends, but they weren’t this. An imaginary friend was vague, fantastical, often a personification of a toy or an object the child held dear. Young Timothy’s friend, however, sounded like nothing the boy would have ever seen before. He’d told Janet all about his 10-year-old friend, his friend who only appears in his dreams, his friend with golden eyes and long hair in a stiff triangular bun and flowy clothes dyed black and red. It was much too detailed to be just the boy’s imagination, Janet knew that all too well.
Alas, Jackson told her to ignore it, so she would.
Timothy Jackson Drake doesn’t remember being born, but he does remember sleeping for the first time. He remembers waking up again as soon as he closed his eyes, only he was no longer in a hospital room or being handled by nurses. No, he woke up somewhere foreign, in a sunny room full of red, held by a boy with golden eyes who looked at him like baby Timothy was the treasure of his heart. It was ironic now to think the stranger was a piece of Tim’s heart.
The boy introduced himself as Zuko. He didn’t say who he was or why he appeared in the infant’s dreams, but he promised his little Timmy that he would protect him, help him, that they’ll always be together.
So far, Zuko was the only one to keep his promises to Tim.
His parents swore up and down that they cared about Timothy, but at the age of 6, he was starving.
Being alone wasn’t anything new. Two years back, when Tim was 4, his parents started leaving on short work trips, maybe two weeks at a time. In this time, Tim was homeschooled and had several nannies to bother when he needed something. His parents weren’t there to care for him, but he had Zuko around.
Zuko was much better than his parents anyway. Every night, he talked to Tim, listened to him and the problems he faced that day, then kissed he crown of his head and sat the little boy on his lap. Every night, he told Tim fantastical stories of spirits kind and vengeful, of people just the same. Zuko held him there against his warm - warmer than it probably should be - body until he fell into a true dreamless sleep until morning.
Point is, Tim was used to being alone in the sense that his parents weren’t around. But now he was 6 years old, a big boy, and his nanny had just left and his parents wouldn’t be coming home for a few weeks still. And he’d ran out of food.
He went to sleep hungry that night, and Zuko wasn’t faring much better. For the first time since Tim had known him, the teen looked genuinely hurt, the left half of his face red and inflamed and nearly burnt off.
“Shhh, it’s okay, I’m okay,” Zuko told him when he was just about to scream. Tim tried not to think of why his voice could possibly be this hoarse.
Zuko’s little Timmy curled up in his big brother’s embrace and breathed in the scent of campfire that seemed to emanate from the teen as much as the furnace-like heat. Zuko held him close and whispered assurances of his safety, of his love, of everything the boy needed to be safe and healthy. After that, he blacked out and only woke up well after dawn, in a different position than he’d gone to bed in. There was food in the kitchen and it carried a familiar campfire smell.
That morning, Tim became entirely sure Zuko was real.
Somewhere through the long periods of near isolation in his parents’ empty house, Tim discovered his love for photography. Subsequently, he also discovered his love for stalking Gotham City’s resident crime fighting dynamic duo.
At first, Zuko hadn’t been entirely happy with his new passions, but he knew how lonely the kid was. The dream world could very well be an indication of Tim’s life - after being smothered in a fancy palace room for six years, Zuko now stood on the empty ragged ship he’d carried out his exile on in his life. May the Spirits have been witness to the old Firelord’s own teenage rebellion and vigilante ambitions. Although, Zuko will insist he was much older than Tim when he started.
The firebender had grounds to be worried, however. Tim was only 6 years old when this started, nowhere near strong or agile enough to follow the Bats the way he did. If Zuko sometimes gave the kid more strength, if he took over for a bit to build his young body’s muscle memory, it was no one’s business but his own. Besides, Tim never complained about his hands smelling like campfire smoke.
All of this never changed the fact that Tim was reckless and would’ve given Zuko gray hairs, had his appearance been able to change from that of his past life. Ever since the Firelord died and got reincarnated alongside his reckless little bird, Zuko has thanked his Uncle for putting up with his own vigilante tendencies more than he had ever had in his life.
Zuko swears on his honor that once this kid is old enough to sit still, he'll force him into sunrise meditation. It’s worked well enough with him.
At 7 years old, Tim found solid proof of Batman and Robin’s identities. At 9 years old, Zuko’s ridiculous ponytail died with Jason Todd.
As Batman became more violent in the face of his loss, Zuko allowed Tim out at night less and less. Most of the time, he scolded him in his dreams. Sometimes, when they were both particularly stubborn, Tim would wake up after a blackout, confused, and find a note smelling of campfire smoke.
(Zuko didn't do that often. He respected Tim’s autonomy, but sometimes too much was too much.)
It took a while to convince the teen to let the 9-year-old go to Bludhaven in search of Dick Grayson, but Tim was nothing if not determined. That and Zuko was always amused at Nightwing and his affinity for a weird bladed boomerang thing he's carried around since his Robin days.
The whole debacle took a couple of months, but, eventually, a decision was reached - Tim Drake would be the new Robin. That night, Zuko paced and cursed under his breath under Tim's gaze all throughout the newly appeared throne room. The teen had new robes and a weird flame-shaped sort-of-crown on his head.
It was Alfred who taught Tim what Zuko really was.
A long while after his parents’ deaths, about a year after becoming Robin, Tim was staying in the manor when Alfred approached him one morning. The old butler realized things didn't quite add up in the boy's life, that as much loneliness as he’d experienced would've caused serious mental problems for him and yet they didn't.
So, to the closest think Tim had to a grandfather, he confessed it all - the dreams and Zuko.
(Not the blackouts or the smell of campfire smoke though. That's their secret.)
“This man you are speaking of, Zuko, is what we call a soul mentor,” Alfred told him. “You are, for all intents and purposes, his reincarnation, while he is trying to guide you and protect you on your journey in life. They appear in people fated to have a hard life. Master Bruce and I each have one as well.”
And now, at 10 years old, a big part of Tim’s like made sense. Zuko would always be there with him, exactly to make sure Tim would never be alone.
Somewhat related, Tim asked Alfred for his soul mentor's name. That night, Zuko laughed hysterically for a good five minutes.