She'd been drugged before? Alright. He had questions. Watson had questions, but he also recognized that it wasn't the time to inquire after her medical history.
"I was in Afghanistan. If I can survive that, I can handle a few angry orderlies. If they think I'm mad, I can just - I can just demand something odd. They'll have to appease or quiet me, which ought to buy you time to get somewhere safe. Maybe into--"
Oh. John's eyes lit up and he began slipping off his shoes. For a few seconds, he probably did look as if he were insane. Then? He began quietly scaling up the shelves that lined the walls of the closet. "If you can get up into the ceiling and find something solid to sit on, you could stay there a while. I wouldn't even have to distract, and then I could come get you in the morning. I could scout the place on my way to my room, and bring water and food with me when I return."
Of course, this plan greatly depended upon a) the ceiling being adequate for a hiding spot and b) Buffy's physical state allowing her to hide for that long. Hmm. Some of the excitement started to ebb.