Red Robin and Nightwing had arrived in time to see Bruce screaming for Damian, futilely searching the shallows where he'd last seen Damian's head go under. The bubbling acidic liquid was already eating into Bruce's suit.
Direct exposure to the Pit would kill the healthy and risk temporary Pit Rage for those it heals. Tim had to drag Bruce back out. Then he had to catch and drag Nightwing away to keep him from diving in after Damian.
Once he was sure they wouldn't kill themselves trying to dive in, he jury-rigged a grapple to try to dredge the pool. If there was even a chance... The Pit might revive him if it killed him. He'd dredge the whole pool if he had to. He wasn't giving up on his gremlin brother.
Dick and Bruce joined in with their own jury-rigged grapples as soon as they could.
Time passed differently in the Realms than in the living world. Hours of paperwork was barely fifteen frantic minutes under Gotham.
When Damian finally finished with the paperwork, the Paperwork Demon shoved him out of the room and between one blink and the next, the Pit Demon was back in front of him. His dead brother's face in a rictus viciously mocking grin.
"Time's up," the demon(?) with his brother's death-pale, sunken face mocked as his clawed hand gripped Damian by the collar, yanking him into the air.
Damian scrabbled at his hand, reflexively trying to escape. "Wait! Ple-please," he choked out. "My-my brother-"
The grin twisted into a scowl. "You lost the right to call me your brother when you murdered me, kinslayer." He hissed, sharp teeth snapping at him.
"Let- my bro- Danya-" Damian choked again as the grip tightened and shook him.
"SILENCE! You're not worthy. You never deserved me."
Damian wheezed, trying desperately to ask if this demon truly spoke for Danyal. Was Danyal here? The true Danyal? His brother's kind, gentle soul - too gentle for the League of Assassins and grandfather. The paperwork and Pit demons wore his face and knew too much of him, but they weren't truly his brother, right? Right?
But the Demon's face twisted and suddenly Damian was launched backwards and through a standing wall-portal(?), and green covered his vision. He thrashed in the thick liquid, instinctively struggling to surface. He had no idea which way was up or out of the liquid.
Just as he started fearing he would drown, something touched his back. He twisted, grabbing at anything solid, and his hands brushed and then grabbed onto a familiar sort of cable. A grappling line.
He pulled at it, desperately hoping, and abruptly was being yanked forward, up and out. The green parted and he gasped in air. Voices shouting but he couldn't parse what they were saying. He was pulled across the pool, hanging onto the line with a death grip. Stone scraped his knee pads and he tried to push himself up and out. But then there were familiar hands gripping him, lifting him out of the Pit and onto dry land.
Damian coughed, breathing roughly as Bruce folded his youngest into his arms and held him close. Dick was right there clinging and fussing over Damian. Tim was right beside them, easing his grapple line out of Damian's grip. Damian switched his grip to the edge of his father's cape.
Danny huffed and then slowly inhaled and exhaled, letting his features morph back to normal. He let go of the spike of old anger and current annoyance. Then grinned. Damian had deserved that prank. It had felt vindicating to watch him sweat and flail out of his depth, nothing like the proud, superior princeling of the League.
But he had a lot of other names to go through.
Danny pushed aside the old memories. He'd never been wanted by his birth family, never been good enough for them to actually care. He'd moved on with his life. He had found a new family that wanted him.
Damian had deserved a good scare after all he'd done.