Son of Neptune comes out on Tuesday and I am the MOST exciting. I re-read The Lost Heroin preparation and, while stuck in traffic in between reading opportunities, started daydreaming. It's just a little something, and it's going to become obsolete in like three days, but hey, everyone could use a little more fluff in their lives.

Things I Own: copies all five Percy Jackson books, the movie on blu-ray, two copies of The Lost Hero

Things I Don't Own: the rights to actually use any of these things. Rick Riordan and Hyperion, it's all you. I just play.

Title was inspired by my frequet inability to differentiate between "Remember to Breathe" by Dashboard Confessional and "Remember to Feel Real" by Armor for Sleep. Neither song has a damn thing to do with this story.

Remember to Feel

There was a presence at his back and he knew her. He didn't know how, didn't even know how he knew it was a girl, but he knew. He felt it from the moment she'd appeared behind him, fighting her way out of a twist of ventus only to find herself trapped here, facing an ever-narrowing circle of a dozen snarling, growling giants with nothing more than Riptide, her knife, and their shoulders pressed together.

"You know how to use that blade, or is it just meant to be pretty?" she called over her shoulder. It was nearly impossible to hear a single voice over the roar of the tempest and the howls of the giants, but he had a feeling he'd be able to pluck her whisper off a single thread of air in a tornado if he needed to.

"It's purely ornamental," he yelled back. "Usually hang it above my fireplace. I'm supposed to hold the pointy end, right?"

"Just try to keep up!"

She lunged before he could even open his mouth to respond, just like he knew she would. Always did like to get the last word, didn't she? He didn't mind; just laughed and countered with his own thrust forward, leaving with Riptide and a manic grin.

It was like dancing. Real dancing, with dips and turns, except instead of facing his partner he faced the other dancers, countering his other half without even looking at her. She wasthe other half, that much was undeniable as they weaved together and dove apart, always back-to-back, always protecting their center as they slowly hacked their way through the line of giants.

He wasn't stupid enough to try and take an offensive stance here, not with just the two of them, and she was certainly smart enough to know that too. She forged the path, steering them towards the weak links in the flesh fence, and he followed with waves of steel and the occasional attempt at regaining control on the storm. It was far from perfect, but it was effective, and really all that mattered was getting herout, alive, and as far away from here as possible.

It worked. She dodged right and he dove through the opening she left between two sets of giant legs, slinging one arm around her waist and hauling her through after him, and suddenly they were clear, slow-moving giants still bumbling along behind them.

They didn't stop to look. He grabbed her hand and she was already running, racing towards the line of trees less than fifty yards away and pulling him along behind her. He needed little urging; the anchor of her achingly familiar hand wrapped around his was more than enough to keep him sprinting after her.

She was faster, but his legs were longer. By the time they broke through the first tangle of branches they were dead even, hands locked together as they dove for cover under the dense foliage. It was too thick for the giants to squeeze through, he knew that, but he still wasn't ready to stop until they had at least a hundred foot buffer between them and the clearing.

"Here." He slowed to a jog, then a slow trot, finally tugging her to a stop alongside him. He fell back heavily against the nearest tree trunk, dropping her hand in the process and regretting it almost immediately. "We don't want to run too far into the forest and not be able to find our way back out."

She was doubled over, hands on her knees and panting, nodding slowly as he spoke. He looked at her, really looked at her, straight on, for the first time since she'd appeared at his back, studying the curve of her hunched shoulders and the way the long golden braid didn't seem to be able to contain all of her curls. He jumped guiltily as she began to push herself upright again, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she took a deep breath.

"Okay. Where are we and how –" she stopped speaking abruptly, finally straightening to her full height and leveling wide gray eyes on his own.

Neither of them moved, though whether because they didn't want to or because they didn't know howwasn't quite clear. He watched, fascinated, the great war of emotions struggling for dominance on her tan features. Shock, wonder, excitement, resignation, and, and this was a rare treat, a stunned sort of ignorance. She didn't know what to do any more than he did, and that to him was even more real than finally seeing her face again.

"I…I told myself to be prepared for the probability that you wouldn't remember me," she said slowly. "I mean, Jason…I just." She blew out a long, shaky sigh, one hand reaching out slightly as though towards him before she thought better of him. "I thought I could handle it, but it was a lot easier in my head. It's just…gods, I missed you, and to have you here and not be able to –"

He couldn't take it anymore. Pushing himself up off the tree trunk he reached out and caught both of her wildly gesticulating hands by the wrists, tugging her forward until she was close enough for him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her snug up against him.

"Shut up, Annabeth," he sighed, so close now that his breath fanned across her face, tickling the curls falling out from behind her ear. He, very wisely, didn't give her time to react, closing the scant distance between them and sealing her lips with his own.

It took her barely a second to clue in, sliding her arms up around his neck and tangling one hand in his black hair, both of them moving impossibly closer together as their grips almost simultaneously tightened to a bone-crushing hug even after they had to pull back for air, foreheads pressed together as though they couldn't bear the thought of moving too far away.

"Do you really think I could forget about you, Wise Girl?" he teased, sliding one hand up to brush her wild curls out of her face. It was a moment before he realized that his fingertips were wet where they'd dragged across her cheek, and another moment still to recognize the slow drip of tears sliding down from her stormy eyes.

"Percy," she breathed, and even though there was laughter in her tone he could still hear the slight quiver of a poorly-restrained sob. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another, just for good measure, pulling back just enough to be able to look her squarely in the eye. She giggled in that strange way girls sometimes do when they're crying, grinning at him even as he wiped away more tears.

"You ever do that to me again, Seaweed Brain, and I will personally make your life so absurd that The Odyssey sounds like a casual afternoon stroll," Annabeth sniffed, making a patently poor attempt at looking stern.

Percy did his level best not to laugh, biting down on his lip and schooling his face into his most neutral expression. "What, leave you again?" He pulled her close again, and now it took no effort at all to be completely serious.

"Never."