A/N: Ok the first part is supposed to be in italics so I will put stars at the beginning and end of the italics so you know. Sorry for not updating sooner.
The air was thick with smoke and he could barely see. He tried to follow the sounds of the cries and screams, hoping he would be able to locate some children and get them out of this building.
Coughing, Remy pulled the collar of his trenchcoat up to cover his face. He tripped on something and stumbled forward but didn't fall. His ears picked up a quiet whimper that turned into a cough. Remy hurried towards the sound. In a corner, two small children were curled up close to each other, resembling each other so much they had to be siblings. One of them was unconscious and the other regarded him with large, terrified eyes.
" Don' worry, petite, I'm here t' help." He murmured comfortingly.
He picked them up, carefully and the little girl who was conscious wrapped her arms around his neck.
Remy started to run when he heard an explosion from somewhere close by. He had to get these kids out of here. Frantically, he ran, searching for an exit, not caring that his lungs were filling with the acrid smoke. All that mattered was saving these innocent lives.
Finally, he burst out the door of the building, coughing violently but determined to keep moving. But that's when it happened. The building behind him exploded and the blast threw him forward. He clung tightly to the two children and tried to turn himself so that he would hit the ground and spare them as much hurt as possible.
Gambit landed hard on his shoulder and slid for a few feet through gravel, which tore the sleeve of his trenchcoat and the skin beneath. When he finally came to a stop, he sat up, ignoring the pain of his arm and shoulder and regarded the children he carried.
The boy who had been unconscious throughout lay was limp. There was no rise and fall of his chest. Gently, Gambit lay him on the ground, as he did with the boy's sister and checked for a pulse. Nothing. The little boy was dead.
Grief stricken but knowing he could still possibly save one child, Remy turned to the little girl. It wasn't a happy sight. She lay on the ground, coughing weakly, blood speckling her lips. Remy bent over her.
" C'mon, petite, please, stay wit' me."
The little girl looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain and fear. Then, her body convulsed one last time and she lay still, her now vacant, dead eyes staring up at Gambit.
Remy gently picked her body up and cradled it in his arms, closing his eyes as tears streamed down his face.
" My babies!!!!"
The woman's pained, heart wrenching yell forced Remy to open his eyes. A woman was running toward's him, stricken, tears streaming down her face. The mother.
She reached Gambit and collapsed, sobbing, seeing her daughter's body in his arms.
" I'm sorry..." Remy whispered, feeling these words were horribly innacurate and would do nothing to ease this woman's pain.
She looked up at him and anger flashed through the tormented eyes.
" You killed them!!! You killed my babies, you monster!!!! Go away!! Give her to me and be gone!!!"
The words stung and burrowed deep into his heart. Sadly, Remy handed the body of the little girl to the woman and rose, feeling like the monster he had been called, feeling like an empty shell. He was in pain, so much pain but it had nothing to do with his injured arm. That woman was right. He'd killed them, he'd killed her babies.
Gambit sat up, quickly, waking as he did so, his whole body shaking. The motel room was dark and small but that's not what Remy saw. He saw those children, the ones he'd tried to save but had only ended up killing. And so many more had died that day, mostly all children, children he hadn't been able to save.
Still trembling, Remy rose and walked to the bathroom. He fumbled with the light switch for a moment, his fingers so shaky he could barely get it on. When, finally, the bathroom was flooded with light, Gambit stepped inside and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was sweating and tears mingled with the sweat on his cheeks.
Leaning against the sink, he took a long, shuddering breath. How could he escape this? How could he rid himself of these terrible nightmares? This guilt?
Remy looked at himself once more. He needed to stop this. Somehow, he needed to do something that would make the deaths of all those children more bearable, more able to accept. He couldn't think of anything. How could the massacre of so many innocents be acceptable? Gambit shook his head, it couldn't be. Then how was he going to be able to go on with these terrible images that plagued his dreams and the knowledge that he'd been a part of the massacre?
Remy walked out of the bathroom and collapsed back onto the bed, unable to go back to sleep and not wanting to. All through that night the unanswered questions tormented, until finally, exhausted and grief stricken he fell back into a fitful sleep.