This is based off of the information from all the movies, not the comics. If I get something wrong, please inform me, it has been a while since I've seen them.
The blinding torrent was relentless, heedless of the girl running through the streets, trying to see far enough ahead so she would know if she was going to be trapped, but the rain had other plans. She could barely see two feet in front of her, so she didn't notice when she ran out into the street. The airhorn of the semi, however, was heard even over the rain, and the headlights pierced through, aimed straight at her. Like a startled deer she just stared, unknowing of the misfortune about to befall her. She was naive then, and she was afraid.
However, something large, heavy, and hard crashed into her from the side, knocking her out of the way of the truck. She hit the sidewalk on the other side of the street hard, scraping her knees, elbows, and hands. A soft whimper escaped her lips, inaudible over the rain. She rolled to lay on her back, closing her eyes against the rain. She didn't want to get up.
"You there!" A deep, proud voice called out to her, and she sat up a bit. Beside her was a red, white, and blue shield with a white star in the middle. She looked up to see a man jogging across the street towards her. He looked both ways before crossing. His soaked white t-shirt clung to him beneath a brown leather jacket, and his muscles were clearly defined. He wore a pair of blue jeans and some boots. His blond hair clung to his face, his blue eyes shining with concern. "Are you alright?"
She couldn't tell how far away he was until he was standing over her, offering his hand to her. The rain continued to pour, and she was still scared, but she took it and allowed the man to pull her to her feet. She was trembling violently, both from the shock and the chill from the rain. The man removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders. It was very warm, and way too big. "Can you tell me your name, miss?" He shouted over the rain.
"I don't remember." Her own voice sounded foreign to her. She realized she couldn't remember anything. She had a bewildered look on her face, still akin to a startled deer. The man gave her a pitying look, and lifted the shield over her head. Instead of being pummeled by rain drops, she was deafened by the sound of rain on metal. The man shouted over the noise, "come with me. There's a cafe over there, you can dry off there." She had little choice; what else was she supposed to do? She didn't know who she was, where she was, why, or why she couldn't tell how far everything away was. She felt as if she were looking at a photo: awfully two dimensional.
Soon enough, she was no longer chilled by the rain, but by the air conditioning of the small cafe around the corner. The man sat across from her, pushing a steaming mug towards her. She peered down at it, clutching his jacket close to her. The smell of leather and a trace of cologne was much better than the stink of the city air, even in the rain. Her hair, black as night against creamy white skin, clung to her face, but it was only long enough to stick to her forehead and the sides of her cheeks. It tickled the back of her neck.
She reached out and put her hands around the cup. It was very warm, and felt nice against her cold palms. "What is it?" She asked. Her voice was frail and a bit raspy, perhaps she had a cold. It would be no surprise; she couldn't remember how long she had been running in the rain, or even what she was running from. She lifted the mug to her lips, and yelped when she was burned. The man gave her a concerned look and said gently, "blow on it first." She did what she was told. It didn't burn, but she wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at the bitter taste. The man chuckled softly and commented, "coffee is pretty bitter by itself. Here," he put some sugar and cream in it. She found that it tasted much better.
"Let me introduce myself," the man began, leaning back in his chair. His hair, though it had been soaked by the rain, still seemed to be neat and tidy. "My name is Steve Rogers." He seemed like he was about to say more, but stopped himself. She stared at him expectingly. He cleared his throat, "and you don't remember your name?" She shook her head, "no." He motioned to her, "check your pockets."
She did, but she was wearing those incredibly annoying jeans that look like they have pockets, but they actually don't. Her shirt had one breast pocket, and in that pocket was a small silver locket in the shape of a snake wound in an oval. The snake had onyx for eyes. It was a very pretty thing, except it had no chain to hang around her neck. She opened it, but it was empty.
"Well..." Mr. Rogers began. "Perhaps there is another way that we can find out who you are." She put the locket back in her pocket. "What do you remember?" He asked her. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I only remember the rain." He crossed his arms and gestured to his own eye, "you don't remember how you got that?" She was confused until she reached up and felt something over her left eye. An eyepatch? That would explain the issues she was having with depth perception. "No, I don't remember." A gut feeling told her to keep the eyepatch on.
"I can't just leave you here." Mr. Rogers leaned on his elbows. "Maybe Tony can help you." She tilted her head, "who's Tony?" He replied, "Tony Stark, he's... well he's rich and full of himself." He stood, leaving a few dollars on the table for a tip. "I'm currently living with him. I'll take you there, alright?" She nodded; it seemed to be the best option. It was either that or the rain.
By the time they reached Stark Tower, they were soaked through once again. She followed Mr. Rogers inside, her eyes widening at the glamour of the first floor. The tower was massive; it was hard to believe that so few people resided here.
A young woman with red hair walked towards them, her heels echoing around the hall. "Steve, who's this?" She motioned to the frightened young woman standing there. Mr. Rogers replied, "I'm not sure. I think she has amnesia. I brought her here, since I couldn't just leave her out in the rain." He turned to the woman, "this is Ms. Pepper Potts." Mrs. Potts gave her a sympathetic look, "I'll bring you two a towel."
Mr. Rogers brushed his hair back out of his face. He flashed her a smile, "how are you feeling?" She replied meekly, "my head hurts." She rubbed her temples. It wasn't a very prominent pain, but it was extremely annoying. He patted her shoulder gently, "maybe Ms. Potts can get you something."
Ms. Potts returned with two towels and handed one to each of them. The young woman took it, drying her face and her hair first. Ms. Potts laughed a bit, "your hair is sticking up." She reached forward and smoothed down the wild black strands. The woman finished drying herself off as much as her soaked clothes would allow.
"Follow me, miss." Ms. Potts walked down the hall to an elevator. Mr. Rogers came with them, but he got off on a different floor. When they got off, they walked down a long hallway and ran into a man whose chest was glowing through his shirt. "Pepper, who is this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Ms. Potts replied, "Steve found her on the street. She doesn't remember anything. I'm going to get her some dry clothes and a place to sleep, and maybe she'll remember something in the morning."
The man nodded and held out his hand to her. "Tony Stark." She shook his hand shyly. He let go and crossed his arms. "How about we call you Miss Black? That's easy enough to remember." She nodded her head, "that's fine." He asked, "what's with the eyepatch?" She reached up and touched it, answering, "I don't remember." Mr. Stark shrugged, "alright then. Pepper, when you're finished, come to my office." Ms. Potts smiled warmly, "of course." She then pulled Miss Black down the hall once again.
Ms. Potts led her into a simple but pleasant room. "You can stay here for now. I'll be right back with some clothes." Ms. Potts left, leaving Miss Black to explore the room alone. She ran her fingers over the bed frame, then over the burgundy comforter. She went over to the window and peered out over the city. It looked so grey in the heavy rain. She turned away and went over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and found herself looking at her reflection. She was startled, since she had no memory of herself. She was very thin, and looked delicate. Her hair was cropped short and looked rather fuzzy. Her eye, the one that was showing, was pale blue, almost as white as the whites of her eyes. She had a bit of a haunted look, with dark circles under her eyes, but when she smiled at herself, she looked pretty.
Her eyepatch was nothing more than a bit of black cloth with some string tied around her head. She reached up, planning on taking it off, but Ms. Potts came back and startled her. "I see you've found the mirror." Ms. Potts smiled kindly. "Here," she set some clothes on the bed. "Put these on, and I'll let you get some rest. You must be exhausted." Miss Black nodded, realizing exactly how tired she was. "Thank you, Ms. Potts." "You're welcome." Ms. Potts turned and left the room.
Miss Black put on the soft pajamas, and pulled back the sheets on the bed. But before she laid down, she went back over to the mirror, her curiosity getting the best of her. Maybe her hidden eye could give her some clue as to who she was? She untied the string, slowly lowering it.
Her entire eye was black.
Her eyes widened at the strange sight, and she gasped. An unreasonable wave of fear washed over her. Her eye, blacker than her hair, seemed to glow in an eerie sort of way. It looked so deep, like the entire universe had been swallowed up in the darkness. That was the last thing she saw before the mirror shattered outwards, and some force blew her back. A scream was ripped from her lungs, but it wasn't her own. She smacked her head against the bed frame, and everything went black.