Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own the song "Letters from War". The song belongs to Mark Schultz.

It was the middle of June when Amanda Hughes received a letter from her eighteen-year-old son fighting in the Ishbal Civil War.

Dear Mom,

The weather here in Ishbal is horrible; it's sweltering hot night and day. The only difference is that at night, the sun isn't trying to burn you up.

I've made some friends. Ironic, huh? Making friends in the middle of a war, I mean. My best friend so far is Roy Mustang. He's twenty but acts like he's at least five years older and has a title better suited to one. Roy's a State Alchemist, and they're automatically granted the title of Major. His other name is Flame Alchemist. I swear he's going to be Furher one day.

Another good friend is Riza Hawkeye. She's the sharpest sharpshooter you will ever find, strict and kind, and has a soft spot for animals. Hawkeye's a second lieutenant, two ranks above me. There's also Captain Havoc who always has a cigarette hanging from his mouth and Major Armstrong. He's a State Alchemist, too, and has muscles the size of boulders. But no matter how intimidating he looks, he's actually one of the softest people you'll meet.

I've been thinking lately about God and how he died for the people he loved. It made me realize that that's what I'm doing here. On a smaller scale of course, but it's similar.

I just want you to know, Mom, that you're what I'm fighting for.

Love from,

Maes Hughes

Amanda smiled. Maes hadn't been in Ishbal a month, and he'd already sent her a letter. His first letter, she noted, from war. She immediately went to her writing desk and started writing her reply.

Dear Maes,

I'm so glad you have friends. Give them my regards and my best wishes. I hope Major Mustang, Second Lieutenant Havoc, Captain Havoc, Major Armstrong, and you all make it home safe. And make sure to tell Captain Havoc that smoking like that will kill him one day.

You're a good person, Maes, and a brave soldier. What a father you'll be one day! Make it home. And make it safe.

God loves you, and I love you.

Love from,

Mom

The letters went on like that for several months. Amanda would write every day, and Maes would reply when he could, usually about once a week, with updates about where he and his friends were stationed and how they were doing. Then one day, late in December, Amanda got a letter in a hand she didn't recognize. As she read the letter, tears fell onto the paper, staining it and smearing the pen.

I was up on a hill; I was out there alone. When the shots all rang out. The bombs were exploding. That's when I saw him; he came back for me. Thought he was captured, a man set me free. That man was your son. He asked me to write to you. I told him I would. I swore I would write you. I'm sorry, ma'am.

Sincerely.

Roy Mustang

After that, there were no more letters. From anyone. Amanda prayed every day that Maes was all right and that he would come home. She continued to write him every day, never knowing if he got her letters.

Two years later, in the middle of Autumn, after Roy Mustang's letter, a military car pulled in the Hughes's driveway. Amanda, just coming out to check the mail, fell to the ground in front of the door, fully expecting the worst. Her breathing shortened until she was hyperventilating as a man stepped out of the car. He looked familiar, but vastly different. It was a grown up version of the little boy who used to stand there with that same smile and say, "Mom, I'm going to be a soldier when I grow up." He was a captain now.

"Oh my…," she gasped, tears falling down her cheeks. The man smiled at her.

"Mom, I'm following orders from all of you letters, and I've come home again." Maes smiled as he ran to hug her, dropping his unzipped bags on the front porch. Amanda glanced in them as she peered over his shoulder. There was nothing in there but letters.

"My letters!"

"Heh. Yeah. Got all of them. Staff sergeant said every man should be lucky enough to have someone write them every day. He was practically crying when he handed them to me." Maes gave a choked laugh. "You see the man driving? That's Roy. He… Kept me sane out there. He rescued me. I'll introduce everyone some other time." Amanda nodded and hugged him tighter, crying and smiling.

A/N: This is based off the song Letters From War by Mark Shultz. It's one of my favorite songs, though I no longer believe in God. I wrote this ages ago when I was listening to it and imagining the way Hughes's mother must have felt while Maes was at war. I made him eighteen so that he's twenty when he returns. It fit's the song that way because he's not a father when he leaves for Ishbal. Actually, I'm not sure about any of that anymore, it's been so long since I've read or watched Fullmetal Alchemist, but it doesn't matter, does it? Because this is fanfiction. Anyway, please review and leave constructive criticism. Seriously, if you're going to put "I love this" or "Keep writing. This is great", thank you. I appreciate it, but don't. Please only review if you're going to tell me what I need to fix. Thank you.