Home would always be wherever Alice happened to be; Cyrus was content with her in his life and would be for however long life continued.
That being said, England had not felt like a home for the now former genie. Try as he might, he never could get down the rules of etiquette no matter how hard he tried. Alice thought them silly, but at least she had grown up for the most part, knowing how to conduct herself. Perhaps his other issue was centuries spent with such rigid rules made him less than likely to take to the very idea of having particular times he could speak and how to talk to others.
Edwin had seemed far more patient with him, unlike Sarah. That woman, well meaning as she was, annoyed Cyrus a little. But at the end of the day he didn’t belong there, he had no surname and ended up with Alice’s after they were wed, the skills he knew couldn’t translate well into Victorian society so he could procure a job with ease (a point his father in law made often being that he needed to start providing for Alice and any children…something else Cyrus had never considered).
His brothers had left, and his mother…gone for good this time, it would be a stretch to say after the wedding that Cyrus was blissfully happy. He was happy, but perhaps not the way people thought he should be.
Alice caught on, and one evening as they were taking a leisurely walk through the garden of her father’s home, she point blank asked him. Lying would have been easy, but instead of trying to continue on with a lie for Alice’s sake, he flat out told her he longed to return to Wonderland, or Agrabah. He missed their adventures, and regardless of the worry he felt with that confession it was soon settled when she gave him a light kiss, and mentioned talking to the White Rabbit next he visited.
Soon after they were back to their adventures, and both all the happier for it.
This place though, it was strange on a whole new level. They had only been in Storybrooke for a few hours the first time, but after a long visit with the now White Queen and King of Wonderland, it seemed like a good place to explore next. It turned out Alice’s old friend the Hatter was among the residents, so at least there was someone to help with all the confusion they felt over this modern world.
There was more than confusion in Cyrus’ expression when he turned a corner into the park. A flash of hair that was such a light shade of blonde it looked almost white, and the way she walked was familiar enough to strike a quick jolt of fear through him. The last he had ever heard of her, she was imprisoned once more. Surely those were not wild tales, but as he turned to look once again, he was convinced he was seeing the one person who could strike fear in most anyone, far more than Jafar ever could, which was reason enough he tried to get his own under control.
How had the Jabberwocky managed to escape Wonderland was a mystery, which was a touch concerning that she was now wandering the streets of this particularly strange little town.
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