A drabble that was inspired by Two Will by Derpnote. Go check out their story. It's much better than mine XD ( s/13021582/1/Two-Wills)
Each drabble here stands on its own. They aren't connected to each other unless specified.

L's dead, Light wins and he contemplates one night.

I was so sleep deprived in the beginning. It was the constant tap-tap-tap on his laptop as he presumably worked through the night. I would wake up every 30 minutes or so when he'd get particularly worked up over something only clear to him and his pace would increase until it just sounded like an assault on an unsuspecting key board. I asked him if he could get a silent one once.
He just looked at me impassively and said " I need my equipment exactly as it is now in order to function optimally. Would Light-kun want my efficiency to drop? That would certainly increase his chances of being Kira by 3.7 %"

I never brought it up again, of course. My "kira percentages" were constantly being adjusted in those days, going up and then down. As my only concern was to have this ordeal over with I just shut up about it. A person can get used to anything was my mantra in those days. The tapping at night. Waking up in the middle of the night with him ominously looming over me, big eyes scrutinizing me even while asleep.
It was disconcerting. I didn't sleep well, and my mantra played on a loop.

I think about those times increasingly often now. I wake up in the middle of the night. Not because of dreams, or regrets, or anything so trite.
It's only… the quiet feels cold and alien now. It is such a notable, almost tangible lack of sound, it's disturbing. No crinkly wrappers, no sleepless madman assaulting his keyboard, no shifting feet rumpling bedding underneath them.

I don't care to indulge in fits of sentiment, but I admit I see him sometimes, sitting on the edge of the bed. Some fleeting image that I know is there before I look, since it's only there because I willed it into existence.
It's brief and ethereal. And I entertain for a moment the thought of being haunted and I always come to the same conclusion; yes, but by myself.

Lately, I've tried to will an image that might bring this new ordeal to a closure. I will the image of him falling out of his chair and into my arms.
I will the image of Rem turned to dust. But as always, right after that, my brain supplies me with the sound of rapid keys in a silent building.
I don't think I'll sleep well again.