She thought she knew the Doctor: he had blazed himself a trail across the stars, leaving toppled governments and heartache in his wake. He manipulated people around him to get what he wanted, even the faith of his companion Ace to defeat the personification of evil itself. He split homes in two, put a stop to the beginning of many bad seeds, and caused several galactic wars over the simplest of things only to solve them in the most grandiose and convoluted ways.
And yet, Ace has stayed by his side through it all. She may have protested somewhat at his actions, but never did it cross her mind as a serious thought that maybe, just maybe, traveling with the Doctor for so long might do her wrong in the end.
And eventually, she learns.
She spreads her hands out; there's a large gaping hole where the color of black should be, and she can look through to the other size with an uncomfortable ease.
Minutes later she's in the Doctor's face, yelling about it was all his fault, why wasn't he more responsible, there's a rip in the bloody fabric of -- don't you look away when I'm talking to you, et cetera.
All he can do is shoulder the responsibility in his own way and says nothing, lets Ace berate him for a while before storming off to sulk in her room.
In the middle of the night cycle, he creeps into the laundry room with his sewing kit and patches the hole in Ace's jacket. He supposes that if he hadn't had his mind on overthrowing the god-emperor of a planet two solar systems away, he would not have let her jacket rip open in the wash.
In the right light, the stitches are visible, but Ace either doesn't notice or doesn't care. When the Doctor tries to explain, she tells him to shut up and pass her the rucksack full of nitro-nine, her code for even though you ruined my favorite jacket, I'm still fond enough of you not to knock you upside the head this time.
(The Doctor whistles innocently as she puts on her jacket before going out, remembering how he may or may not have accidentally put a tear in her best nightgown as he was rewriting Mozart in his head. He wonders if it would be bad timing to ask if Ace could do her own laundry for once, for he quite liked preserving the rest of his regenerations for less discomfiting deaths.)