I fell in love with both the wings AU (specifically the "Clipped Wings" AU my roommate, totalityofthegrump, writes) and the Time Stuck AU. Instead of writing two different fics I decided to mash them together. Enjoy!

~Mabel, October 1977~

This wasn't the first time Mabel Pines had found herself in deep trouble. It was, however, the first time she'd found herself in such deep trouble alone. Dipper wasn't around this time to help her think of a good way out of it. She didn't even have Soos or Wendy to fall back on. She was entirely on her own.

It had all been because of a stupid fight and an even stupider mistake. And as she fell through time, the journey seeming unnaturally long, Mabel couldn't stop thinking about just how dumb the entire situation was, and how much she regretted all of it.

She landed in an unfamiliar place rather painfully on her right wing. The tape measurer she and Dipper had nicked off of that time traveler weeks ago landed on the ground a few inches away with a crunch, smoke pouring out of it. Mabel could only briefly worry about how bad that probably was as she scrambled to her feet, trying very hard not to move her sore wing, as she snatched up the machine. "Ow," she grimaced and stuffed it into her sweater pocket. It was extremely hot, so much so that touching it had burned a little bit.

She was in the middle of some unfamiliar city, and it was late. The sky was dark and starless, nothing like the night sky of Gravity Falls. The air smelled faintly acrid, and it was freezing. Whatever year it was, she had arrived on the verge of winter. "Where am I?" she whispered, biting down on her lip and looking around, as though she would see some sign telling her exactly which city she was in.

Or what year. Time travel and all that. A month ago it had been fun. Now it was mildly terrifying. "It's okay," she tried to reassure herself, slipping into an alley and sliding to the ground with her back against the wall. "I just have to go back and everything will be okay." Her wing wasn't so sore anymore, so it seemed she hadn't done any lasting damage. Mabel wriggled her hand into her sweater sleeve to use as a sort of protective mitt as she pulled out the time machine. It was still warm, but not painful to touch anymore, so she started fiddling with it.

She pulled out the measuring part of it, estimating she had maybe gone fifteen years into the past as she pulled it to that mark and pressed the button on the side. At once, a jolt of electricity shot out of it into her fingers and up her arm, and she yelped and dropped it, rubbing her hands and staring in horror at the machine. She hadn't moved at all. It was broken.

She was stuck.

The realization struck her like a punch to the gut, and she scooped up the broken time machine and stuffed it back into her pocket, starting to shake from both cold and concern, as she tried to process this. She didn't know where or when she was. There was no way to get back to her time.

She would never see Dipper again. She would never see Grunkle Stan or her Great Uncle Ford, or Wendy or Soos or Waddles.

It had been a stupid fight. And she'd lost everything for it.

Panic settled in. She was alone. And now she was very, very afraid. She curled her knees into her chest and buried her face in her hands, breaking down completely. "I don't know what to do," she gasped through choked sobs. She felt like she could barely breathe. The cold was starting to cut through her sweater, seeping into her core. She curled in further on herself, trying to conserve heat. "I don't know what to do…"

~Stan, October 1977~

Stan Pines was doing particularly well for himself that evening. Hell, he had a pocket full of cash and a full belly for the first time in two weeks. He would have been whistling cheerfully if he didn't want to draw attention to himself. The wings were bad enough. They were big and all too noticeable, as Golden Eagle wings were quite the rarity. He was fairly certain that the security detail at the casino hadn't figured out he was counting cards – he'd been careful to lose enough before winning big so he wouldn't be suspected – but he had found it never hurt to be just a little paranoid. He was pretty sure they wouldn't have let him cash out if they'd suspected him of anything, and he didn't appear to have anyone tailing him, but he wouldn't truly breathe easy until he was crossing state lines again.

As he passed an alley on the way back to the place he'd parked his car he thought he heard the sound of someone sniffling. Huh. Did he dare?

The curiosity proved to be too much, and he backtracked. He didn't really expect much. Probably just a cat. He peered into the dark alley, listening for the sound again. And a sound did come, but a vastly different one – the sound of choked sobs. That was no cat.

He hesitated, thinking through all the ways this could be a trick, but figured it was just too damn strange to be one, so he slowly proceeded into the alley. Jesus, it was a kid.

She was crouched behind the dumpster, crying into the sleeves of a pink sweater that looked a few sizes too big for her, her small body trembling violently. And yet the most shocking thing about her was the pair of beautiful scarlet macaw wings spread out behind her, shuddering with every sob that racked her body. He'd never seen anything quite like them.

"Um… hey. Kid," he called out softly to her, not sure what else to do. He'd feel wrong leaving her like this. "You okay over there?"

She gasped and her head shot up, her expression one of terror.

~Mabel~

A part of Mabel had known she'd eventually have to get up and leave the alley, but she had hoped that she could cry herself out before then. She needed, first and foremost, to find out what year it was and then where exactly she had landed if she had any hope of making it back to her own time. She couldn't be sure if she had even been born yet. Somehow, she doubted it.

She was still pretty immersed in her overwhelming fears and was still several minutes from even trying to stop her crying, but the voice cutting across the alley jolted her out of her misery and she shot her head up in fear. Someone had found her. It could be literally anyone, and they could be out to hurt her.

So she was rather taken when she looked up, expecting to have to make an attempt at protecting herself, and instead looked into the face of a man who looked very much like her father. She almost cried out "Dad!" before she realized that, while alarmingly similar, it was not him. This man had a bigger nose, a squarer jaw, and thicker eyebrows. Not to mention different wings. That was the real giveaway.

His wings were magnificent, even if they did look a little worse for wear. They were enormous and bronze, and even though they were tattered and a little ragged they were still beautiful. Powerful.

She knew him, but she didn't know how she knew him. She had to know him. He was too familiar for her not to somehow know him. She just couldn't quite put her finger on it. But just because she knew him, that didn't make him safe.

"Who are you?!" she demanded, her teeth chattering so the question came out shaky. She tried to stand up, but it was like her legs were refusing to be legs. The fact that she was so cold she could barely feel them certainly wasn't helping. She got halfway up before her knees buckled and she fell back to the ground, growing more frightened every second. This eliminated any possibility of running away if she needed to.

~Stan~

Stan's heart ached with pity as he watched the girl try to stand and fail. From the sound of her voice, he could venture a pretty decent guess that she wasn't just shivering because she was crying – she was freezing. Well, he didn't blame her. Snow was due any day now, and she was wearing a skirt. "Take it easy," he said as reassuringly as he could, slowly approaching the girl so he wouldn't startle her further. "I just want to help."

The girl's expression melted from fear into confliction, and she shrunk further in on herself. Her feathers ruffled as he approached. "St-stay back," she stammered out. The closer Stan got the paler she looked.

He stopped, not wanting her to be frightened of him. He felt bad for the girl. He knew what it was like to be scared and alone, once upon a time. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he assured her, slowly shrugging his jacket off his shoulder and over his wings and holding it out to her. "Here. Let's warm you up a little."

At last she cracked a tiny smile and inched forward, closing the gap between them enough for her to take the jacket. She got her wings through the slits in the fabric and slipped her arms into the sleeves, mumbling contentedly. Stan's lips twitched up into a smile. The jacket was far too big for her, the sleeves hanging well past her hands and the fur lining at the bottom knocking against her knees.

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling shyly up at him.

"Yeah," Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am gonna need that back, though. Once you've stopped shaking so much."

She nodded, wrapping the jacket tighter around her thin shoulders.

"What are you doing out here, Kid?" Stan asked, kneeling don so he was at her eye level. "You lost or something?"

She started chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes welling up again. "Um… kind of," she sniffled, shaking one sleeve down so her hand went free and she could wipe at her eyes.

"Well, uh, if you need a lift home I can give you a ride," Stan offered, wishing he had a way to stop her tears. Unfortunately, his suggestion only seemed to upset her more, as she started crying again.

"I can't go home!" she whimpered, burying her face in her hands. "I can't!"

God, this kid had it bad. "Hey, it's alright," he tried to comfort her, awkwardly reaching out a hand and patting her shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She nodded, but her face remained in her hands, and Stan sighed. "What's your name, Kid?"

She let out a shuddery breath. "M-Mabel," she said, keeping her last name to herself. He didn't blame her. He knew what that was like.

He was going by Earl Paisley nowadays, and he was accustomed to introducing himself as such, so when he told her his real name he was a little shocked with himself. He hadn't intended to, really; it had just slipped out. "I'm Stan Pines."

The girl gasped and her wings perked up at once, and her head shot up out of her hands. "Grunk—!" she yelped, and then cut short. Stan stared at her, surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. She was staring back, her eyes sparkling with something Stan wasn't accustomed to seeing anymore – adoration.

He grunted as Mabel barreled into him, her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder, nuzzling her cheek against his shirt. "It's so nice to meet you, Stan Pines," she mumbled, sounding so relieved and happy that Stan didn't know what else to do except for hug her back. Somehow he felt highly affectionate towards her.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you too, Kid," he said, rubbing her back a little bit.

From somewhere outside the alley, down the street, Stan heard voices approaching. Paranoia settling in again he pulled back from the kid and stood up, looking down at her. "Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her quickly from the alley and down the street towards where he'd parked his car. "You can stay with me for a while until we figure out what to about your, er… situation."

"Okay!" Mabel said eagerly, grinning up at him as he pulled her down the street.

Stan let out a long breath as they hurried along. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time?

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!