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Damage Control
Vincent had been put up on thirty-six hours of enforced bed-rest after retrieving Cassandra, and losing.. part of himself. The world seemed different. He was cold. He got hungry and tired as mortals of average physicality did. It was terrifying, and humiliating, and sickening for him. His body felt incomplete.

As soon as he'd been able to get out of bed, he'd retreated to his lab. All his work on the other major project he was working on was carefully recorded, preserved, and cordoned off, and then everything else got wiped clean. Hours passed, then days, then weeks. He only stopped his calculations and testing when he needed to eat or sleep. Discarded junk food wrappers and instant food packaging overflowed his wastebasket by now The exception was checking in with Kristoff to be assured that Andrea's repairs were proceeding on schedule.

At this point it was a month later, and more than fifty percent of the laboratory walls were covered with notations. He was attempting to isolate the energy that constituted the Asgardian 'spark', and then reinfuse himself with it. He would have called Asleif for consultation, but he couldn't bear to interact with anyone while he was in this state.

He couldn't stay like this.

Without his power.

Without his identity.

Weak. Vulnerable. Unable to protect anyone.