2

"I have visual." Came the monotone voice of the Martian Manhunter through Batman's earpiece.

A quick rundown of recent events, as well as the sheer convenience of a 'Healer' showing themselves after Bruce had been in a very physical altercation had been enough to convice J'onn that something was amiss.

But it wasn't until Batman had explained that, not only was the kid claiming to be able to heal, but that he'd somehow weaponized that ability to nearly kill someone that he'd agreed to psychically monitor the situation. And even then, unless J'onn found something especially dangerous or worrisome, he wouldn't intentionally dive in.

Unintentionally, the Manhunter had explained to him in private some time ago, it could still happen. Martians, all of them, were a deeply interconnected species. They were individuals, but all of them were part of their community. It was difficult to be a stranger on Mars, and on Earth the silence J'onn could hear was sometimes heart-rending in its intensity.

And... Much as it galled Bruce to admit, he wasn't in any condition for a fight. Bane had worked him over all too well before throwing him down two, three, four stories. Landing in a dumpster was a stroke of luck he couldn't be more thankful for.

As such, the Martian Manhunter was here as a trump card more than he was as insurance. If the healer could manipulate biology and turned violent, J'onn's command of his own physiology should negate that concern. And even if it didn't? Well, most people forgot that the Martian was nearly on par with Superman.

"The subject is wearing a blue sweatshirt, hood up. Blue denim pants. Black shoes. He has entered the building. I have a lock on his... This is rather curious." Curious was not good. Curious was not something Batman wanted to hear.

"What do you have?"

"He lacks any form of mental defense. Not even the most basic means of organizing his thoughts, beyond some simple focusing practices. I am, however, uncertain if I should attempt to press deeper."

"You found something?" Bruce is keeping an eye on the door. He'd sent the kid a message, to meet him on the roof of a building downtown at twilight. He'd been trusting the Martian Manhunter to keep him apprised of the healer's location, but it sounded as though he was becoming distracted.

"It is... Difficult to navigate. His mind is filled with minor memetic hazards. Beyond that, he knows an astounding measure of the Eldritch Truth. I was unaware humanity had even had contact with -" Bruce physically stumbled when J'onn said... Something. A name. Simple and common, but filled with meaning and understanding and purpose and it was lookinggazingjudginglovinghim-

Batman struggled to get control of himself when he saw the door opening.

The boy walked forward with confidence that rang hollow. He was dressed exactly as J'onn had said, though the Martian had failed to mention the glowing yellow eyes. He was carrying a drink tray filled with coffee, of all things.

"Half expected you to not be here." He doesn't introduce himself, and he doesn't offer to shake the Dark Knight's hand. He set the tray down on the ledge of the roof, grabbed one and turned to face Bruce.

The batman said nothing. For several minutes, the only sound on the roof was the wind and the boy drinking from his cup. Several moments like this passed before the boy turned around, gazing over the city much as Bruce was in the habit of doing.

"He will leave soon if you do not initiate further conversation." Unseen, Bruce glared at the boys back. This was a minor gambit, a means of asserting control over a conversation and establishing the power structure of negotiations. A child shouldn't have enough experience to recognize that.

"...What, exactly, are you offering?" Bruce took a coffee out of the carrier. Fresh, hot and black.

"I'm offering cream and sugar if you want it." The boy held out a bag, labeled with Maritime Coffee, but Bruce didn't reach for it. He'd grown to appreciate the bitter acidity of black coffee through years of drinking it.

The boy shrugged, putting the bag back into the pocket of his sweater.

"Like I said. Healing. Toxins, blindings, paralysis and deafness, as well as physical harm, minor and severe. Not sure about reattaching limbs, and dead is dead, I'm already doing miracles here. If you weren't born with it, I can probably fix it unless it's a mental disorder." That was... An incredibly bold claim.

"And you used this to incapacitate Bane." The child didn't answer him, not immediately. He was holding his cup up to his mouth to take a long, drawn out sip.

"Steroids are toxins, yes. I didn't expect he could lift a dumpster after I tagged him, but I'm not surprised he couldn't hold it."

"What makes you think I would accept your... Healing?" If the boy was being honest, this was a resource the league couldn't afford to waste.

"You still pissing blood?"

"...How does this 'Healing' work, then?" It had been six days since he'd landed in a dumpster, on his back, after being thrown off of a roof. He was lucky he was even walking right now.

"I use a handful of spells. They work by empowering a concept and using it to erode a negative concept in a target. Or in some cases, replacing it. Stronger people can take more harm, which takes more effort for me to repair. I could probably have you fixed up from near-dead in about an hour. Superman, Wonder Woman, really any Superhuman or Extra-terrestrial who's beyond human I can stabilize, but bringing them back to full health would likely take me a week of constant effort. That's me being optimistic, by the way." The kid took a sip of his coffee and looked like he was thinking for a moment. "Also, works kind of weird on the undead, depending on the type. Solomon Grundy would be actively weakened or possibly disincorporated, as an example, whereas a spirit might be healed. Or not. Those tend to be a case by case basis."

A wizard. A wizard who knew what he was doing. A wizard who knew what he was doing and recognized he had limits.

This was not a thirteen year old child.

"Who are you?" Bruce took a sip of his own coffee. He was going to have to find out what had the Martian Manhunter keeping quiet soon.

"My name is-" Bruce heard static as he spoke, painful and corrupting noise. "-alright, that's no good. Just go with Alchemist. Save me the hassle of playing charades."

"What... Was that?" He'd already had a headache coming here. Now it was edging into a migraine.

"I've got a few answers and I don't know which one is true. Could be the goddess that brought me here has DRM on my name. Could also be that I'm not in the Book of Destiny and that's minorly offensive to reality. Could also be any number of other things I haven't got a clue about." The wizard simply shrugs, almost unconcerned.

"Fine." Not an answer he wanted, but if Alchemist didn't know then there wasn't much use in pursuing it with him. "After you heal me, then what?"

The wizard looked at him, with those strange, glowing eyes. In a moment, Bruce's headache was gone. The minor aches and pains in his knee, elbow, back and neck that he'd grown used to for years were fading away. The ringing in his ears, present for over a decade was just -gone-. The city lights were no dimmer, but they were suddenly so much less sharp.

A moment later, and the more severe pain in his back and calves, the rigid stiffness in his neck was gone too.

It was the first time in a very, very long time he'd been able to fully stand without agony trying to push him back down.

And then, finally, he felt something else. Something warm and light, he felt... He felt -good-. He looked down at his left hand and flexed it, trying not to express how amazing it felt to move his fingers and not feel the tendons struggling.

"Then it's up to you. If you want this to be a one-time thing, that's it. I go my way, you go yours. You want this to be something the league can benefit from, here's my list of demands." He handed a sheet to Bruce, who took it without hesitation.

Bruce unfolded the sheet and looked at it. An annual wage, Alchemist's list of responsibilities which included confidentiality and that the league members receive top priority for treatment. The league's responsibilities, which required he never be listed in their database as having healing abilities and that they create a legal identity for him. It was actually very simple, very straightforward, and Bruce knew any contract lawyer would be frustrated at how incredibly lacking it was in legalese.

"I'll discuss this with-" Batman stopped mid sentence. Alchemist was gone. He'd never heard the wizard move, or the door open. He folded the paper back up and put it in his belt.

"That was... A rather curious experience." J'onn floated up, through the roof of the building they were standing on. He grabbed one of the remaining two coffee from the carrier and held it in front of his mouth.

He'd always preferred the smell to the taste.

"I suppose that's fitting. Is there anything I need to be aware of?" A wizard with almost unrestricted healing magic. That... That could be a game changer.

"He lied only once while speaking with you. I am uncertain as to what, however. I was... Distracted."

"This Eldritch Truth that you mentioned?"

"No, thankfully not. It was one of the memetic hazards he knows. Something called the 'Nyan Cat'."