So this is my version of a 50th fix it with the Eighth Doctor and set in my Tyler Family Adventures verse. It was written for my fantastic friend bubblygal92 months ago and I just realized that I had only out it on Tumblr.

The Eighth incarnation of the Doctor stepped back into the barn, the Moment, or Rose Tyler as she preferred to be called, was right behind him. He had seen everything that he needed to see to make this universe-altering decision. Chancing a glance at the box that housed the Moment the weapon, he noticed a new feature. A deep red, ironically rose-like button extended from it.

Rose smirked. "You wanted a big red button."

That he had. Never could resist a big threatening red button; he always had to find out what the outcome was. What this one did though… It was almost unthinkable.

"One big bang, no more Time Lords. No more Daleks. Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "I was sure when I came in here. There is no other way." No matter how much he wished that there were, there just wasn't.

"You've seen the men you will become." There was wistfulness in her voice. There was more to the story of the Doctor and Rose Tyler; he could feel it, even though none of the older versions of himself would explain. They could see her, they knew she was there, guiding them. It was the way that they looked at her, or in the case of the one with the spiky hair, wouldn't look at her. To that Doctor, her image was a source of comfort and pain. To the eldest Doctor, she was a source of joy and security.

"Those men." He paused and smirked at her. "Extraordinary."

"They were you," she assured him.

"Not yet they're not." With heavy hearts, he looked down at the innocuous looking cube at his feet. "And they never will be if we don't do this. If I don't do this."

Stepping closer, Rose laid a hand on his arm. "I'm here for you, always."

He turned and looked her straight in the eyes. Her gaze held nothing but love, compassion and understanding. "Somehow, I don't doubt that." A shiver of anticipation travelled down his spine at the thought of discovering exactly what she would one day mean to him. Out of all the people from his past, present and future, his strength in his darkest moment came from her.

Forcing a big grin, he took a second to try and lighten this thoroughly depressing mood. "Just tell me one thing. Is sandshoes always that moody? I mean, he can't even look at you without looking as if someone stole his puppy."

Immediately her face fell, and he knew he had struck a nerve. He opened his mouth to apologize, and she shook her head. "He was born of a sacrifice…for love." Her eyes glowed golden, and her voice sounded almost ethereal. "That Doctor in many ways is so very human. He loved deeply and he lost much." Her grip tightened on his bicep. "His life will not have the happiest of endings. His song is ending soon. But a new one will begin."

The Doctor stared at her, awestruck. "Who are you? Really?"

"I am Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf," she replied, her voice and eyes having returned to normal. "A companion to the Doctor, one of the greatest men who ever lived."

Thinking back over everything that he had done in this war, he scoffed. How could she know him and still think him great? "No," he protested. "Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame, whatever the cost."

He lifted his hands, gently resting them on the button. This was it, the end of his people, of his family. His hand hesitated.

"You know the sound the TARDIS makes?" Rose asked gently. "That wheezing, groaning. That sound brings hope wherever it goes."

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he nodded. "Yes. Yes, I like to think it does."

Rose places a hand on his cheek. "To anyone who hears it, my Doctor. Anyone, however lost." She smiled. "To me." The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of the Time Rotor, two of them. "Even to you."

Twin TARDISes materialized side by side. The floppy haired Doctor and his brunette companion, Clara, stepped out of one ship, and the spiky haired Doctor in the long coat stepped out of the other.

"I told you." Clara swatted her Doctor on the arm. "He hasn't done it yet."

"Go away now, all of you," the Eight Doctor instructed, not looking at the others in the room. "This is for me."

The Tenth Doctor caught Rose's eye and quickly looked away. His hand raked through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. "These events should be time-locked. We shouldn't even be here."

"So something, or someone," the eldest Doctor smirked at Rose, "let us through."

Pride echoed through Rose's voice. "You are my clever boys."

The youngest Doctor shot her a look before turning to his future selves. "Go back. Go back to your lives. Go and be the Doctor that I can't be right now. Make people better." He nodded at Clara. "Don't make her watch this. Make her life, your lives worthwhile."

Floppy hair shook his head. "No. We're not leaving you."

"All those years, trying to bury the memory of this in my memory," the pretty boy added.

"Having to carry this burden yourself," Eleven added. "Until you find someone who gives you a reason to truly live again." His eyes lingered on Clara, and she gave him a sad smile.

The Tenth Doctor looked first to the young girl. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to protest how she could be who his future self was referring to. Instead he snapped his jaw shut and stepped over to the Moment. "But this time…"

"You don't have to do it alone," the man in the waistcoat finished, walking over to join the other two.

Together, the three of them put their hands on the button. Rose stood between Eight and Ten. In the youngest Doctor's opinion, it was because the two of them needed her the most. "Thank you," he whispered earnestly.

For the first time since this whole adventure had begun, the Doctor in the pinstriped suit looked directly at Rose, spoke to her. "What we do today is not out of fear or hatred. It is done because there is no other way."

"And you will be absolved," she murmured, holding that Doctor's gaze for a long moment before turning to his predecessor.

Eleven nodded. "And it is done in the name of the many lives we are failing to save." Turning he looked at Clara, the young woman shook her head. His brow furrowed. "What? What is it? What?"

Her eyes darted back and forth between the three Doctor. She wasn't able to see Rose. "Nothing," Clara insisted.

"No, it's something," her Doctor insisted. "Tell me."

Licking her lips nervously, her eyes settled on the box that held the Moment. "You told me stories about this. When you wiped out our, your own people. I just… I never pictured you, this you doing it, that's all."

"Clara…"

Her eyes snapped up to meet those of the Doctor that she had come with. "Please don't do this, Dad, please."

"Dad?!" Both of the younger Doctors exclaimed simultaneously.

The Tenth Doctor stumbled backwards, his gaze alternating between Rose and the eldest Doctor. "I can't. I wouldn't. Not without…." He stammered. "No."

Shifting his gaze to Clara, the youngest Doctor scrutinized her. The girl must look like her mother, since she carried none of the Doctor's features. Yet there was a familiarity in her face and her eyes.

"Clara, sweetheart, listen to me." Her father approached her and ran his hand over her hair before resting it on her shoulder. "They are me. If they do this, I do this. It doesn't matter which one of us presses that button. But it does matter that we are here for him," he nodded at the youngest version of himself. "This has to happen. We cannot and will not change things. And you are here to give them hope that their life will be better."

"Maybe she needs to take a closer look," Rose said sadly and the room around them reformed. They were standing in a battlefield. Daleks were all around them, slaughtering everyone in sight.

Clara clung to her father. "What's happening?"

"Nothing," the Eighth Doctor said, looking around dejectedly. A small hand, Rose's hand, took his and held it tightly. "It's a projection."

"This is happening everywhere right now," the Tenth Doctor added as Rose slipped one of her hands into his. "The Universe at war."

"These are the people you're going to burn?" Clara asked, her voice trembling.

The eldest Doctor shook his head. "No, love. This is Ubbleylag 4, not Gallifrey. These are the people that we are going to save. Open your mind, Clara. Can you sense it? The Daleks and Time Lords alike are damaging time. Rewriting it over and over again. These people that you are looking may not exist tomorrow because their entire history will have been erased. As scary as this sight is, it's nothing to what both sides of this fight were capable of."

A solitary tear fell down Clara's face. "The fabric of reality, of time being ripped apart and it hurts."

"There isn't anything we can do for the people of Gallifrey," the pinstriped Doctor said sadly.

"He's right," the Doctor in the waistcoat stated firmly. "There isn't another way. There never was. Either I destroy my own people or let the universe burn."

"It's not fair," Clara said softly, burying her head in her father's chest. "I wish Mum were here. She'd know what to say, what to do."

Rose's hands tightened around the ones belonging to the two younger Time Lords. "Who says that I'm not?"

At the same moment, the Tenth Doctor gasped and the Eleventh Doctor said, "Of course she's here. Did you really think that she wouldn't be?"

"Rose, how?" the Doctor in pinstripes spluttered. "How can you be her mother? You're trapped in another universe with… with… with… him."

The scene around them reformed. "I have promised, will promise you forever, Doctor," Rose replied calmly. "It is a promise that I fully intend to keep." Tears prickling his eyes, the Tenth Doctor pulled Rose into a tight hug.

"Bad Wolf?" Clara asked looking to the spot where the incarnation of her mother stood, even though she couldn't see her. The eldest Doctor nodded.

Suddenly feeling left out of some miraculous explanation, the Eighth Doctor asked. "But what does that mean? Bad Wolf? Who is she?"

The other Doctors spoke at the same time.

"She is our salvation."

"Rose is our everything."

There were still so many questions that the youngest Doctor wanted to ask. Yet somehow he knew he wouldn't get his answers today.

Pulling away from the Doctors, Rose stepped towards the box containing the Moment. "I'm afraid that the answers that two of you seek will have to wait. We cannot delay any longer, lest the High Council make another attempt at something impetuous."

Not happy that he was missing something but knowing this had to happen now, the Eighth Doctor stalked over to her. He sighed but didn't say anything.

"Right." The Tenth Doctor scrubbed a hand down his face before joining his past self.

The Eleventh Doctor made to join his counterparts, but Clara held tight to his lapels. "Clara…"

"I know that you have to do this," she said, quickly cutting him off. "It's just… Without this moment, if things changed now…"

"Then the life that we have now wouldn't exist," her father confirmed. "The lives of billions of people all across the cosmos wouldn't exist."

Uncurling her fingers, she let him go. "Then do it. I'll be right here."

Her dad kissed the top of her head and with determination walked over and placed his hand on the button.

This time, without the slightest bit of hesitation, three Doctors did what had to be done.

~oOo~

"Here you go," Clara said, handing both of the younger Doctors a mug of tea. "It's not as good as Mum's but it'll do."

Immediately, the Eight Doctor took a large, appreciative drink and watched as the man beside him sniffed his tea before taking a tiny sip. The shoulders under the man's large coat relaxed. It appeared that the familiarity of a simple cuppa could bring that version of himself such comfort. He wanted that. As tired as he was after the ravages of the Time War, he wanted to see what this woman, this Rose, would bring to his life. Because right now he needed someone to show him that what the future Doctor had, was one that he would actually get to have.

"What now," the youngest Doctor asked. "After what we just did, the lives that I just took, how do I keep going? Where do I go?"

"Oh, that's easy," Clara said, grinning over her own mug. "London, 2005, Henri…"

"Stop it," her father cautioned. "No giving away the whole plot." He turned to fully look at his younger self. "You go on to the next adventure. You seek answers to the questions that you don't know that you'll have. You save the person that you couldn't save today and eventually things get better."

The other Doctor chimed in. "There's always something we don't know, isn't there?"

"One should certainly hope so." Standing, the Eight Doctor slapped his hand on his thighs. "Well, gentlemen, it has been an honour and a privilege."

"Likewise," his Tenth-self agreed.

Chest swelling with pride, the Eleventh Doctor clapped him on the back. "Doctor."

"My dear Clara," the youngest Doctor said taking the hand of the woman that would one day become his daughter. "Thank you for everything today and in days to come."

Impulsively, she hugged him. "It will be the best of times."

"And the worst of times?" he asked, pulling away from her.

"Most definitely not." Clara grinned. "Until we meet again. I will be the one crying."

"And with dirty nappies," her father added with a laugh.

With a laugh, the Eighth Doctor walked into his TARDIS, stalked to the console and through his ship into the Vortex. The memories of these events were already fading into the back of his mind, new ones filling in the gaps.

He collapsed into the jump seat, his body beyond tired. This regeneration had been through too much, had been pushed too far. He had felt it as soon as he pressed that button; it was time to put this regeneration to rest. Maybe a new face would help ease his guilt.

A golden glow began to emanate from deep within his cells.

"Oh yes, of course. I suppose it makes sense," he chuckled. "Wearing a bit thin. I hope the ears are a bit less conspicuous this time."

~oOo~

Finishing his drink, the Tenth Doctor sighed. Clara did make a great cuppa, just like her mother. He shook his head, not quite sure how things with Rose were going to work out but the knowledge that it was going to happen was thrilling.

"So, you said earlier that Mum was here," Clara said, looking between both men. "How did that work exactly? I couldn't see her."

"Well, you know your mother. Textbook enigmatic, she is," her father replied, pulling a gold and silver ring out of his pocket and slipping it onto the third finger of his left hand.

The younger Doctor grinned. He was married. To Rose. As bad as the events of today were, he now had hope and that was a glorious feeling. He turned to Clara to see if he could explain how Rose was here. "Well, when Rose took in the heart of the TARDIS, she saw all of time and space. She saw this and knew that I would need her here to help make the right decision."

"So Mum in all her Bad Wolf glory saved the day again." Clara rolled her eyes and swatted her father's arm. "Why didn't you just say that, Dad? Sounds like a typical Tuesday to me."

"Oi, the cheek on you," the Eleventh Doctor teased. "You don't get that from me."

"Sounds like I have a lot to look forward to," the Tenth said happily. "I hope that I find that future soon enough."

There was a small sadness in the older Doctor's eyes. "Oh you will, very soon. Not long now. Your song is ending, but a new one will begin."

"Well I do believe it is time for me to go," the Tenth Doctor said solemnly, not wanting to know any more about his future. "Give my best to Rose."

"I will," the other Doctor promised.

"You know what?" Clara asked, stepping over to the younger man and studied his face. "The pictures don't really do it justice but I can see it now."

"What?"

"Just how much Rory looks like you," she said fondly. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and then stepped back. "Goodbye, Dad."

"Goodbye, Clara," he replied softly before walking over to his own TARDIS. After one last look over his shoulder, the Tenth Doctor entered his TARDIS, on his way to his future.

When the noise of the dematerialization ended, Clara turned to her dad. "Do you need a minute alone?"

"How did you know?"

"It was those big sad eyes of yours," Clara explained. "Mum calls it one of your tells."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Ah."

"Oh, by the way, there was an old man looking for you. I think it was the curator." With that, she entered their TARDIS and let him be.

The Doctor sat down and stared at the one of the paintings in the gallery. The painting was a desolate landscape with winged creatures dotting the sky. The scene looked incredibly familiar. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. This place was one of Clara's favourite places. She called it her respite. So it was no wonder she had suggested they meet here after what they had done. It had been a brilliant idea.

"I could be a curator," he said aloud to no one in particular. "I'd be great at curating. I'd be the Great Curator. I could retire and do that. I could retire and be the curator of this place."

"You know, I really think you might. One day," a man with a Scottish accent answered.

The Doctor whipped around looking for the source of the voice. An older looking man with silver hair and an angular face stepped into the room. He looked astoundingly familiar and for some reason reminded him of Ancient Rome.

"Then again, I don't know if you could stay still for long enough to do the job properly," the curator added.

"Who are you, exactly?" the Doctor pressed.

The older gentleman shook his head. "I'm just a man. One who's lived a full and happy life. A man with a family that he is proud of. And who, while he once had so very many regrets, has now forgiven himself completely."

The Doctor took a step back as realization struck him. "Happy life then? A life well lived."

"Exactly," the curator smiled. "One full of adventure and family."

Grinning, the Doctor clapped the other man on the shoulder. "Give the family my love." Turning he walked towards his ship, a happy man.

"I always do," the curator replied as the groaning wheeze of the TARDIS began to fill the air. "I always will."

A few moments later, a blonde woman poked her head around the corner. She no longer looked to be in her early twenties. Small wrinkles, laugh lines, had set in around her eyes over the past millennia making her look closer to her mid-forties, in human terms at least. But to her husband she looked as beautiful as she had the day he took her hand and told her to run.

"Time to go, Doctor. Adventure awaits." She grinned that tongue touched grin he loved so much and motioned for him to follow her.

"Wait, Rose," he called, and she rolled her eyes but came over to him. Encircling her waist with his arms, he pulled her close. "Thank you, for always being there for me. I love you."

She reached up and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. "I love you, too, my Doctor." Her lips brushed his, and her voice echoed through his mind. Forever.