Author's Note: I've been thinking about something like this for a couple of days, and after class today, the words just started coming. If only it worked that way for all my stories! I hope you like it!

Hazmat

I was named for my mother. Most people find this hard to believe, my name's not that common, and it certainly wasn't a usual name for a girl when my Mom was little. But then, these people have it wrong, I was given my mother's name, just not the one they think.

I was told that my Dad named me that because of how much he loved my mother. For the longest time, I didn't believe it. I know that he never blamed me, no matter how much I blamed myself.

He could always tell when I was being particularly down on myself. He'd come up to me, wrap his arms around me and tell me that it's not my fault, that I have no reason to feel guilty, and that he doesn't want that for me because he loves me so much.

I'd just look at him with a helpless expression and tell him that if it weren't for me, she'd still be here. He just pulls me closer and tells me that my mother wanted me so much that she would have done anything for me, that she wouldn't hesitate to save me, even if it meant putting herself at risk instead.

That's what she did. She saved me in spite of herself, and honestly, I don't know if I deserve that, that I'm worthy of the sacrifice she made.

It was only recently that I truly understood how much it meant that he named me what he did. I always thought that if he were going to name me after my mother, he would have given me the name that everyone called her, that he called her.

That's what I found out recently, that he did. See, my Mom was part of a team, that's how she met my Dad. There were two other guy on the team, my "uncles". I don't see them very often, though I wish I did. One of my "uncles" married my Mom's best friend, and it was while I was visiting them that I was set straight. They called her by her what everyone called her in normal life, it's kind of difficult on a military base, but off it, that's what she was called.

My other "uncle" was always very formal, it was only after nearly a decade of knowing her that he started calling her by name rather than rank, but even then he was overly formal.

Thing is, my Dad never called her either of those names. To him, from the day they met, to the day that leaves my guilty, he called her one thing, the name he gave me. I asked my uncle if he was serious, if he called her that even after they got married and my answer was very direct. That was all he ever called her. Now that's all he ever calls me. Makes me feel better, he wouldn't have given me her name if he didn't love me as much as he loved her. He says that I look just like her, and I was always afraid that it was a bad thing, like a walking memory, despite the fact that he always says that I'm beautiful.

For probably the first time since I was able to understand why I was the only kid I knew without a mother, I don't feel guilty about being born, about being premature and putting my Mom's heart rate into overdrive and having her arrest. He doesn't blame me, so I won't either. Like my Dad always tells me, my Mom wouldn't have wanted that.

I turn when I hear my Dad come in. I give him the smile I've always been afraid to give him after the first time he told me it was my mother's smile, the one that she only ever bestowed on him and said was reminiscent of the sun. He seems to light up when he sees it. He comes to me and gives me a big hug.

"I love you Carter."

End Note: I do not own Stargate, Double Secret Productions and Gekko do. No infringement intended.