A San Diego cop returned to his patrol last week, more than two years after defying death and a bullet to the brain.

Sgt. Anthony Elliott was only thinking of his wife and two young kids as blood gushed from his head while he was rushed to the hospital in December 2023 — and was so torn up with worry that he stopped his fellow officers from delivering what he knew would be devastating news to his family.

“I knew they were going to come to my house and say I’d been shot in the head,” Elliott told the DailyMail in an interview published Saturday.

“Before they can say ‘But he’s okay,’ she’ll already think I’m dead. I couldn’t let her feel that.”

Rather than rest up in the hospital’s trauma unit — with fresh staples across the crown of his head — Elliott eagerly waited for the Ring Camera outside his home to activate.

When the app on his phone buzzed and he saw his three colleagues amble up to the door, the hurt cop stopped them in their tracks before they could knock.

“You guys are good looking,” Elliott told them through the camera.

“What’s up, dude!” one of the cops responded.

“She’s going to freak out when she sees you, just be prepared,” he told them, explaining that he wanted to make sure his wife, Laura, could hear his voice and confidently understand that he had survived the shooting.

Elliott had tried to call her before the men arrived, but her phone was off — the young mother was catching up on some much-needed sleep.

When the officers asked how Elliott was feeling, he jokingly replied: “‘I’m feeling like I got shot in the head.”

As they walked into the home, they let their colleague know they were inside with Laura, soothingly adding: “We’ll see you soon, alright?”

Elliott, a decorated San Diego police officer, former Navy sailor and SWAT team member, had been shot while in pursuit of a domestic violence suspect through a row of shopping carts outside a grocery store in the suburb of Carmel Valley.

The suspect climbed over a brick wall, turned around and fired — striking Elliott, who didn’t even see the gun, from just five feet away.

He told the DailyMail he remembers the moment with chilling clarity, and that he caught himself on shopping carts with the side of his body that was still working, a move that might have saved his life.

“It’s ironic. It’s usually the secondary blow — hitting the pavement — that finishes you off. But I caught myself. That probably saved my life,” he recalled.

As blood pooled on the concrete beneath his head, Elliott told medics: “Tell my kids daddy’s going to be okay. Tell my wife I love her. I wanted them to know I tried.”

“I knew what was happening. I told my guys to check for an exit wound. I knew I was shot. I couldn’t move my left side. I figured this is it. So I started saying my goodbyes,” he continued.

“I wasn’t thinking about my career. I wasn’t thinking about my house or my job. I was thinking about my wife and my boys. That’s all.”

But it turns out the bullet entered Elliott’s brain just short of a fatal injury, stunning doctors.

Elliott never lost consciousness or the ability to talk — but he still had a long road to recovery.

He returned to San Diego the following month, where he re-learned how to write, plan and organize, as well as work on memory retention.

Elliott continued to struggle with brain fog, and his left leg remained numb, describing it like “static.”

“Like a fuzzy TV screen. But I run on it anyway,” he said.

He returned to the force the following September for desk duty with the SWAT unit — but he shocked everyone last week when he returned to patrol.

“I felt like I didn’t belong, like I’d forgotten everything. But by day two, it all came back,” Elliott said. “It was like I never left.”

His family is the reason for Elliott’s survival, he said, and that spending time with his young sons is what helped him recover in such a short amount of time.

“They’d want to wrestle. So I wrestled with one arm. That was the best therapy. That’s what healed me. Not just the rehab — the routine. The bedtime stories, the tickle fights, the diapers. That’s what made me fight,” Elliot said.

“When I was dying, I wasn’t thinking about promotions. I was thinking about bedtime stories. That’s what matters.”