There truly was a tense moment in which the tiniest imagining of violence flitted briefly through Sabo's mind. It wasn't so easy to let go of this boiling cauldron of fervor, and if he had wanted to, Sabo could've slammed his hands into the ground and uprooted the entire neighborhood even without Gambit's mutant power. But not only was he not a violent person by nature, Harry was absolutely correct - innocents would be the only people truly hurt here. And so after seething for a second or two longer, Sabo simply slumped down to his knees and breathed in deeply.
"Yeah. You're...I-I'm sorry..." he said meekly, looking down at the gloves in his hands. Very carefully, he slipped them on, lacing his fingers inside.
Climbing back up his feet again, Sabo looked towards Harry. At 6'1" himself, he wasn't entirely used to looking up at people. Sabo offered him a smile - it was weak, but clearly showed effort. "If you're here with him..." he said, sniffling. "...you're an idiot too."
Then towards Gambit, he closed the distance between them after a few steps and, boldly, reached his hand out towards the cajun's shoulder. Was he crazy? Gambit was likely to burst into flames at any provocation! However, as if someone had poured out an old bottle of ink across the surface of his skin, Sabo's entire arm had suddenly turned black and shiny, and he touched there Gambit softly. Normally, nothing would have been able to physically make contact with the man, but this was how people from Sabo's world dealt with pesky elementals. No fire here.
"Well, for as long as you have them, you have to promise me," he said, looking hopeful. "Promise me you'll take care of them."
This would normally be a very bad time for a joke, but knowing Gambit, Sabo was mentally prepared.