Rock and Adelheid really do have a bit in common, don't they? They both have blond hair, red eyes, and crazy evil fathers! And yes, while I realize that, technically speaking, Rock is only seven years old during the King of Fighters, SNK screwed over their time line with Maximum Impact, so there's no reason why I can't do it. Right?

I'm sorry that it's a bit drabble-ish. I more or less just wrote this to satiate my own curiosity on what would happen if they met up?

Disclaimer: I can only dream of the day when I own the King of Fighters series.

Rock breathed deeply, with the two Bernstein siblings staring him down accusingly. He'd never expected this to be easy, but the least that they could do was avoid making it any harder on him. After all, his intentions were good. What they needed was support, but what they were used to was ridicule. When he thought of it in that perspective, they had every right to be incredulous.

Still, if looks could kill . . .

Quit wimping out, Rock scolded himself. It was too late to be having doubts. He took a deep breath and another cautious step forward, because backing out at this point would only make him look more stupid than if he'd tried offering his condolences. "I'm sorry about what happened to your father," he said, sheepishly. "I understand how that must feel."

He stopped short as the glaring intensified, and felt the urge to start backing away. The younger sibling looked like she had every intention to rip his tongue out at that moment, but Adelheid intercepted her.

"No," he said coldly, "you don't."

Adelheid's anger was far different from Rose's. It lacked the emotion his sister bore, but still held such a menacing tone that it sent chills up one's spine. And instead of something simple-minded, that would easily be forgotten in a few minutes, or at the nearest distraction, this was something a bit more begrudging; the result of months upon months of pent up stress and frustration.

"Stop being selfish," he continued fervently. "Our fathers may have been alike, but that doesn't mean we have anything in common!"

A low blow if Rock had ever heard one. The fact that he could see Rose smiling coyly in amusement at her brother's irrational reaction only angered him more.

Rationality flew out the window, despite his best intentions. "You don't have to sound like you think you're so much better than me!"

"At least our father didn't abandon us in a gutter."

"What's that supposed to mean? I was better off without a scumbag like Geese around!"

"Are you suggesting that you had it better off than us?" Adelheid had regained his composure now, and was acting almost peculiarly calm. The boy himself was a bit of a curiosity to Rock, even. No one had known of his existence until recently, and he'd almost made a show of acting stoic and nonchalant. "You're saying that you'd freely give up power and wealth just to live a normal life?"

Rock nodded. "Yes."

"I see . . . Perhaps you are not as dense as I thought you were after all."

Behind her brother, Rose made a soft choking noise. "A-Adelheid!" she cried. "What do you think you're saying? He wouldn't know anything!"

The blond held up a hand to silence his sister, who still looked taken aback by his sudden declaration. Promptly, she shut her mouth, without looking the least bit pleased.

"As you can see, there's nothing you can do to help us. But we thank you for your effort, nonetheless."

Adelheid turned and left without saying another word, his younger sister following him loyally. For a moment, Rock was shocked, but once he realized what was happening, he called for them to stop. His pleas fell on deaf ears, however, and not even the snooty younger sister could be spared a moment to cast a backwards glare at him.

"That was a bit rude, Adel," Rose muttered once they were out of hearing range.

"Was it?" the brother smirked. "It's not normally like you to lecture me on proper etiquette."

"What did you say? I couldn't quite catch that; you were mumbling."

"It was of no importance."

As usual, Rose didn't look satisfied with his answer, but she chose not to pursue the topic regardless. "I still don't get why you would do that," she said quietly. "He's not worth our time, you could have just driven him off when he first approached us."

And this was coming from the girl who'd complained about his mannerisms nary a moment ago.

"Would that have been better for you?"

"Very much so," she said. "He had no right to be talking about our father like that!"

"But you do realize that one day I, too, shall suffer the same fate?"

"Oh, Adelheid, don't talk like that!"

"I'm sorry, Rose."

"Well, you'd better be," she huffed, and they both lapsed into silence.

Although the boy had only come to them with good intentions, it had been necessary to drive him away. Adelheid preferred not to be surrounded by the sympathy of others, especially dense little do-gooders like that. The problem wasn't because Adelheid disliked the idea of asking for assistance, it was that people failed to understand he was his father's child. He was beyond help already.

He'd be sore to admit it, but he really did envy Geese Howard's child.

I'm not sure if the story really feels complete to me . . . but I cannot think of anyway to add on to it, for now at least, so tell me how I did? I'm not going to cry if you didn't like it, but I'm always interested in knowing what I could have done better!

I have another Adelheid story that I was thinking about writing, by the way . . . something that would delve into his – and Rose's - past a little bit more.