Buffy found herself struggling to find words as the tears spilled out. She hated looking so weak. She wasn't supposed to be weak, not ever. She'd never cried in front of Daniel after becoming the Slayer. Why was it now that she was completely losing herself in front of Lucius, a man or aspect of Daniel that was far more dangerous to show weakness to?
It was too much. It was all too much.
"Then what are you waiting for? You're some sort of superior being now? You know I won't stop believing in him, in you." Her voice shook as she spread her arms to shrug as she talked. "You can easily beat me. You have magic. You're a better fighter than I am right now. You made me cry, so I'm obviously too upset to be at my best anyway. Hit me. Hurt me. Cut me. Do something. Slayer blood's got to be pretty hard to come by. There's a demonic cult somewhere in New Hampshire that has some just for specific rituals. Must be pretty powerful. I bet it'd be useful. Come on!" She threw a sloppy, weak punch on purpose, trying to do something, anything to get him to react in a something besides that cold, unfeeling voice. "Do it!" she hissed at him.