Jackson was sitting in his apartment, tearing apart his pistol for the third time that week to clean it out. He was barely paying attention the the news playing on television, something about the stupid vigilante again. It was more background noise than anything, since his radio had stopped working that morning, leaving music out of the question. He had no idea if Roy even had his own anymore, and Jackson wasn't about to go digging through his brother's room to find out. It wasn't like Roy talked to him much these days anyway. He was either off with Thea or just gone.
Setting a few parts on the couch next to him, Jackson picked up a random part and started wiping it off with a rag, at least getting the dust and whatnot off. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do with what he had. Occasionally, he'd glance up at the television to see if anything was standing out as interesting, but so far, nothing. At the very least, he could use it to keep track of the time. It was getting dark, and Jackson was starting to get hungry.
Finally, when all the parts were cleaned, Jackson started putting the gun back together. If he was going to eat, he would rather just steal something. He didn't even need the gun, but it'd be nice to have, just in case he ran into trouble. When the gun was working again, Jackson leaned forward and searched for the remote to turn the tv off. where the hell was Roy anyway?
