"He's an angel. Apparently finding good memories is an angel thing." The Soldier hitches a shoulder a little, still focused down on the tablet. Watching the little bar move slowly across the screen as the song progresses makes it easier to talk. "The bad ones followed the good ones, though. So we couldn't do it long."

Tapping the edge of the tablet, they say, "This came from Crowley. He played, the tablet recorded, I kept it." Eyes flick up briefly to Misty's face, then back down. "I thought... maybe sometime. I could try to record your music, too. Then you can have it on your tablet. And then the thing you listen on now won't run out of power." It won't be as good of quality, since she'd have to play it from her headphones, but it'd be something.