"Here we are!" the Doctor says loudly as he opens the door. "This can be your room!"
The bed is a twin and covered with a faded quilt and the walls are papered with roses. A white mirrored dresser sits in the corner with a vase of daisies on it. From the doorway he can see into the bathroom. It's tiled yellow. It looks like the sort of room a five year old human girl would dream of and the Doctor's face falls when he tells him that.
"How about this one then?" the Doctor asks, darting across the hall.
The bed's a double, but that's the only redeeming feature this time. The walls are white and covered with pictures of people he doesn't know. A bird cage with a canary sits in the corner. A wicker rocking chair sits in front of a big bay window with someone's unfinished knitting waiting on it. It's a room for a little old lady, he snaps and slams the door.
The Doctor's looking puzzled and he exchanges glances with a grinning River Song as he crosses to the next room. "This one then?"
It looks like a cheap hotel room, soulless and dull. The coverlet is floral and the mattress is hard.
"Next one for sure!"
There's only a crib in this one. River coos over the teddy bear and plays with the mobile before fixing the Doctor with a saucy look. "Was this room supposed to be mine?" she asks playfully.
The Master stares at him, eyebrow raised, and The Doctor flushes beet red. He hustles them out and opens the next door. "Try this one."
An avalanche of boxes tumble out and the Master rolls his eyes as River and the Doctor stop and try to force them back in. He stalks down the corridor opening doors one by one. He finds spare bathrooms and a library, more junk rooms and a swimming pool. Eventually he finds something halfway decent, hesitates and decides that it's the best he's going to get. He steps inside, slams the door shut, and locks it before the Doctor can follow him in.
The floors are dark wood and the walls are papered Victorian green. The bed's a king and a four poster and dominates the room. There's no window, but there is a fireplace burning with a worn red armchair sitting before it. The bathroom is black marble. On an end table there's a decanter of something alcoholic and he pours himself a drink before sinking into his seat in front of the fire.
He stares into the flames, drinks what turns out to be port, and considers his options.
Hours later, all the alcohol gone and his stomach empty he emerges to find that his room's relocated so it's now by the kitchen. He quietly shuts the door behind himself, noting the cheery bronze plate on the door that says 'Master' and stalks down the hall.
The Doctor is the door next to him, River across the hall from them both. Someone named Ponds is next to her and then there's a long unbroken stretch of doors with bronze plates so tarnished you can't see the names anymore. He thinks he can make out a name that may be 'Pose,' but looses interest before he can figure it out.
The kitchen is empty but there's a plate with his name on it resting on the counter. It's a steak with a baked potato and steamed carrots, all cold as ice now. He eats it without reheating it first. Then he pops down the stairs to the wine cellar, grabs a couple of bottles that look old and expensive, and goes back to his room.
River is there, leaning against his door, waiting for him. "Are you just going to sulk then?"
"Out of my way," he snaps, feeling the rage fill him once more.
"I didn't go and save you so you could just sulk," River says crossly.
"No, you saved me so the Doctor could keep me as his little pet and imprison me for the rest of eternity."
River opens her mouth to protest but he has no patience for excuses. Shoving her aside he goes into his room and slams the door behind him. He stands there for a moment, trembling with rage and throws one of his bottles. It smashes against the wall and shatters, dripping red wine down his wall to pool on the floor.
He drinks the remaining bottle without a glass, staring into the flames and hating the universe.