TrankilTylus

It had ALSO turned out that Bruce was a very... anxious man should we say. He liked to have emergency plans and backup emergency plans for those emergency plans. He was no Jazz, but he would bet money the man had SOME form of OCD or paranoia. Though to be fair Bruce was more likely then others to be kidnapped, threatened, ransomed, or held hostage then .

Like he said though, he loved a competent man, and the plans on plans on plans all factored DANNY into them. All the more mundane everyday plans too.

And as the younger kid who fell into his older sisters shadow, who had been belittled and made fun of for most of his childhood? Well, being remembered and put into those plans made him melt.

Seeing his name on an emergency plan among someone else's FIRST fucking priorities? Well, those plans may or may not make him swoon sometimes. And he may or may not keep some copies of those plans next to his his bed and kick his feet when he reads them. Maybe.

The point though!! Back to the point! It was so easy to get wrapped up in his thought when thinking about that gorgeous smile, and those clear sky blue, great-day-for-flying eyes….

THE POINT. right!! the point was.. he hadn't told Bruce about his former double life.

Currently Bruce thought he was a just a secret meta with minor ice powers (he'd had to give the overly anxious man something to chew on when he had realized that Danny's temperature ran always a too cold, his heart always too slow) 

And so the fact he hadn't told him yet was a big problem.

Considering he had just been shot point blank in the head.

Jarred, woozy, and half conscious, (but not dead. Well. dead-ER) he could just hear the agonized mournful screaming of his love’s voice in the background of his hearing.

Bruce had probably seen the whole thing from the barrier the police had created, or from one of the news screens the helicopter cameras had captured.

Shit. those cameras could get fairly good zoom. No way he could just say Two-Face had missed and that he had passed out from the shock or something. 

He could feel the blood streaming down his forehead from the entry wound as his body attempted to heal his brain. It was trying slowly sway the the bullet into leaving from the entrance like an uninvited houseguest.

He could hear Two-Face being beaten down by Batman, their city's own superhero. It was a BRUTAL takedown from what he could gauge He couldn't see much, just the pavement directly in front of him from half lidded eyes. eyes that refused to listen to his ambitious ideas of opening up half another half centimeter so he could see more

He tasted blood in his mouth, and he could definitely, definitely smell the gunpowder hanging in the air from the recently used bullet.

Said bullet and some unsalvageable brain viscera made its way out of his head with a wet splelch.

He could still feel a sizable hole in his forehead, but knew it was just cosmetic at this point, his body having regrown the brain matter that was beyond repair. 

With all the delicate, complex, and intensive work his ghost half had done, he wasn't surprised it had left the rest of the healing up to his normal immune system to finish up.

Just moments after the bullet made it comparatively undramatic exit, and his body started to listen to him again, the frickin BATMAN turned to his (perceptivly dead) body. And then clutched him close.

Oh.

Right.

It was always hard to see the ones you couldnt save, and even worse were the ones you were just moments way from rescuing, but lady luck still decided you took a few moments too many.

He still didn't know what he was going to do about the situation. Could he pass off the healing as another meta ability? Most people only had one right?

His first instinct was to speak up and reassure the (probably some sort of supernatural cryptid) hero, but before his lips would let him form words he heard–

“Danny, god– Danny. I'm so sorry. I–”

Between choked sobs and voice that was much too familiar, Danny didn't know what to do.

Batman was currently hunched over his form, cape blocking them both from search lights and stares. His shoulders were shaking, and his mouth clenched in agony and grief.

He could hardly process any of what had just been revealed.

All he really wanted was to see that beautiful smile again.

So while still probably in shock himself, Danny said the only thing he could think of with his still redeveloping brain.

Testing the muscles, he managed to form the world' smallest shit-eating grin on his face. Blood still dripping down his forehead, he said as coherently as he could manage: